Forging Her Own Path
by Wahoogal06
Summary: S'chn T'gai T'Alora is growing up, making her own decisions regarding her life's path and having her own experiences. This is her journey and where it takes her is anybody's guess. Follows the other ST:2009 stories I've written. Rated T for time being.
1. Chapter 1

**Announcements**

_**U.S.S. Enterprise, **_**2278.285, 2231 hours.** Nyota sat in bed beside her husband, quietly fuming as she pretended to read from her PADD. "I still don't see why you're surprised by all this."

"I was not entirely surprised," he coolly replied.

"Well you're certainly not supportive."

At that remark one eyebrow rose sharply in indignation. "After T'Alora made her intentions known I merely suggested that she cultivate multiple options in the event that the Vulcan Science Academy does not admit her."

"_Implying _that she wasn't good enough to get in in the first place."

"That was not my intention."

Nyota huffed and rolled her eyes. He had an answer for everything tonight. Setting aside her reading she looked him square in the face. "Ok, then what _was_ your intention?"

"My intention was that she seek out alternative institutions for higher learning in addition to the VSA."

Infuriating; he was being absolutely infuriating! "Will you stop trying to quash our daughter's ambitions? She's brilliant, she's practically guaranteed a spot based on academics alone and I don't understand why you're not on-board with her plan…and don't feign some cultural misunderstanding, Mister, you know exactly what I mean! What have you got against T'Alora going to the VSA!"

Spock inhaled deeply and looked down at his lap. "It is not that I do not want her to attend…"

"Then what?"

"I do not want her to be subjected to the same prejudices I faced when I went before the Council for my own admission hearing."

Oh. Her cheeks flushed and she reached out for him both physically and mentally but he'd shut down. Thirty years on and the Council's slights still cut him to the quick. Despite his resistance she took hold of his hand. "Ashayam…"

"It is of no consequence," he said brusquely.

She gave him a sympathetic squeeze. "Of course it is. You don't want to see our daughter get hurt, you're just being a good father."

"Indeed. However, T'Alora will apply to whichever institution she chooses no matter my reservations."

"You mean she's going to make whatever choices she feels are best for her."

"That would be correct."

The fact that he had made similar choices despite his own father's misgivings seemed to be lost on him. "Spock." He looked over at her, the pain clear in his expressive brown eyes. "Times have changed; things are different now. Vulcan children of mixed-species parentage aren't as rare as they once were and the VSA is so much more accepting of off-worlders then it was before. She has just as good a chance of being admitted as any other candidate regardless of the fact that she's ¾ human. What you need to do is show her you're ok with her decision and help her in any way you can."

Spock swallowed hard and nodded. "I will…attempt to comply."

She couldn't resist giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you. That's all I ask." Rolling over to turn off the light she let her free hand travel from his hand down to the covers over the top of his thigh. "You know, for what it's worth…"

"Yes?" He resumed his reading.

"If those idiots thirty years ago hadn't been so insulting you wouldn't have gone to Starfleet Academy."

"That would be correct," he replied, nose back in his PADD.

"And if you hadn't gone to the Academy, you wouldn't have excelled and been offered the teaching position prior to the launch of the _Enterprise_."

Spock still wasn't looking at her. "That is also correct."

"And if you hadn't been teaching there you might never have met me."

Though his posture did not change one iota she noted that his eyes no longer scanned the page. _"'Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful'," _he replied, sending her a strong burst of affection.

Nyota smirked back across the bond. _"You know, you've used that line on me before. Quite a few times, in fact."_

He grinned back._ "The repetition cannot be helped for I speak the truth."_

_"Well when you put it like that…"_

* * *

><p>It had not been her intention to eavesdrop on her parents; however, when she heard her name spoken on her way back to her bedroom she could not help but listen. Her announcement earlier in the evening had not gone over as well as she had thought it would and in listening in on them now she hoped for some enlightenment as to why.<p>

Were she more physically emotive her surprise would have been written all over her face.

In her mind her Sa-mekh was the epitome of all things Vulcan; he was the model she held herself up to whenever she battled for control. Hearing that he had made one of the most important decisions of his life based on _emotions_ was startling.

And yet, T'Alora understood and even supported his reasoning. Mama was correct in stating that if he had attended the VSA they would never have met and she would never have been born, but there was more to it then that. Had she been in Sa-mekh's place and had to listen to thinly veiled insults against her human parent she would have reacted in a similar manner. To know Mama was to love Mama, whether you were Vulcan, Human, or any species in-between.

Taking in this new information as she returned to her room she began to reconsider her position on the VSA. They still had the most premier mechanical engineering program in the quadrant but what if they could not see past her human heritage as well? It was illogical to expend all that time and effort on an admission application when the decision to include or exclude her would be based on so arbitrary a thing as her lineage.

Resolved as to her new course of action T'Alora slipped under the covers in an attempt to get some sleep. She would inform her parents of her latest decision in the morning.

* * *

><p><em><strong>U.S.S. Enterprise, <strong>_**2278.286, 0823 hours.** "Enter."

Sa-mekh strode in and took a seat on the edge of her bed, opposite her desk. "T'Alora, there is something I must speak with you about. Regarding your announcement the previous evening, I…"

"There is no need, Sa-mekh. I am revising my academic plans to no longer include the VSA."

She spun about in her seat in time to see one eyebrow go up. "Indeed? And what was the basis for this decision?"

"To apply would be an unproductive use of my time."

The other eyebrow rose to join the first. "Clarify."

Very coolly she placed her hands in her lap and met his gaze. "It has been brought to my attention that the Admissions Council will be judging me not on my intellectual merits but rather on my pedigree, of which I have no control. Therefore it would be illogical for me to continue spending time on such a fruitless endeavor." It did not escape her notice that as she spoke, Sa-mekh clenched and unclenched his fist multiple times.

He drew a deep breath and waited a moment before speaking. "Where did you come by this information?" Not wanting to admit to eavesdropping T'Alora kept her mouth shut but that did not stop him from drawing his own conclusions. "You overheard your mother and I speaking last night." She nodded.

"T'Alora…" The way he spoke her name, it almost sounded like a sigh. "Do not forego your dreams because of the narrow-mindedness of Council members long dead." She must have looked at him queerly at that comment for he added, "Your mother was correct in stating that the Vulcan people have come far in the last thirty years. Formerly they preached 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination' but only in recent times have they truly come to practice it. The VSA only has to review your achievements to know what a worthy candidate you are for admission."

She nodded, carefully considering his words as he rose and headed toward the door. Pausing in the entryway he added, "Once, many years ago, I received advice from someone that has continued to serve me well whenever the need arises. Ko-fu, I urge you to set aside your logic with regards to this decision and do what feels right." He keyed open the door. "If I may be of any further assistance do not hesitate to ask."

Months later, when she received notification of her acceptance, no one in the family was prouder of her accomplishments then him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** A new story for you all! I hope you like it. My plan is to update roughly once a week and hopefully interweave T'Alora's story with those of Se'tak and Selas as they grow up too. That's easier said then done though and I hope I can accomplish it. Whatever the case stay tuned and I'll try not to disappoint!


	2. Chapter 2

**Move In Day**

_** Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.231, 1130 hours. **Mama needlessly fluffed the pillow once more then looked around the room, biting her lower lip. T'Alora had wanted a more utilitarian bed set while her mother wanted something more colorful; they settled on the geometric red and orange set as a compromise. Packing all of her belongings for this day had been the work of two months yet now that they were here it had taken only three hours to unpack. Se'tak carefully folded up the boxes and handed them to Sa-mekh who set them aside at the top of her closet for re-use at the end of next year, while Selas sat quietly in the comm unit chair in the corner, head tilted up toward the window and enjoying the full effect of the sun on his face.

And now it was time for them to depart.

Surveying her new dormitory room with a critical eye T'Alora was satisfied that her belongings were all in their proper places; her new roommates would now have no trouble with their own unpacking when they arrived later in the day.

"Well I guess this is it then, hmm?" Mama forced a smile to her face but there was still moisture pooling in her eyes. "My little girl's all grown up." She pulled her in for a hug and held her close for quite some time. T'Alora began to feel her mother losing her battle with her emotions as she pulled away. "Work hard and study hard, but don't forget to play hard too. There's more to life then academics," she said with a wink, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Call home when you can and we'll see you at the winter solstice break."

"I will, Mama."

"I love you."

"And I you."

A tear slid unbidden down her mother's cheek as she stepped back and slipped a hand into Sa-mekh's. Before he could say anything, however, Se'tak scooped her up in a hug and lifted her off the floor. He was gaining on Sa-mekh in height now and would likely overtake him and Sa-mekh-al one day soon. T'Alora illogically found herself wishing she would not miss that moment when it came.

She tried to turn away in disgust as he planted a dramatic, wet, sloppy kiss on one cheek. "I'll miss ya, T." With a roll of her eyes she granted him a small grin as he set her back down on her feet.

"Are you certain you will miss me, sa-kai*?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. "I was under the impression that with me off-ship you would now be vying for my bedroom."

His face fell open in surprise. "Aww man, who told!" Both eyes darted to their younger brother who was struggling mightily to keep from laughing outright. "Traitor!"

"T'Alora's room will be going to no one," Sa-mekh declared, ending the argument before it could well and truly start. "It will remain her room until she has set up permanent residence elsewhere, whenever that may be."

It was reassuring to hear him say that she could always come home again; while she was admittedly excited about embracing her newfound independence home would always be with her family aboard the _Enterprise _and it was good to know they felt the same way.

She walked over and leaned down next to Selas, who at 11 years old and 1.5 meters tall was not quite so little anymore, and picked him up. He smiled and squirmed in her grip. "Ko-kai*, I am too big to be carried around in such a fashion." Setting him back on his feet he threw his arms around her neck. "However, I am not too big for hugs."

Reluctantly letting him go, T'Alora knew that while there would be many things she would miss this free and easy exchange of physical affection was what she would miss the most. Just then Mama brushed back the tears in her eyes and reached out to take Selas' hand, ushering both boys out of the room. "Remember, we'll be at your sa-mekh-al's house until tonight if there's anything you need or anything you've forgotten."

"Understood."

Cupping her cheek one last time Mama smiled, murmured a final "I love you" and then left the room, leaving her and Sa-mekh behind.

"First, your sa-mekh-al has tasked me with reminding you that his home is also your home and that you are free to enter without invitation, as well as use the refresher as needed."

T'Alora bit back a smile. "No reminder was necessary as Sa-mekh-al told me this himself before we left this morning."

He nodded. "Understood." Next he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic card. "Second, this is a chit for 1500 credits from me and your mother to be used on your texts, incidentals and the occasional dinner for you and your friends—the latter a suggestion from your mother, as I have it on good authority that the pre-paid meal selections in the dining hall are of excellent quality and nutritional content."

She stared at the proffered credit chit completely dumbfounded. Her parents were already covering the cost of her tuition and this extra display of generosity was unexpected. "Sa-mekh, I cannot…" He cut off her protests with a wave of his hand.

"Thirdly, I would like you to know…" his voice wavered and he paused, taking a moment to recover. "T'Alora, I would like you to know that I am not concerned for you because I know that you will excel here as you have in all tasks that you have set your mind to. You have grown into an exceptional young woman that I am proud to call my ko-fu* and I shall miss you greatly."

The contours of her room grew fuzzy and without thinking she reached out and threw her arms around him in a hug. Her emotional buffers wavering she gave her sa-mekh one last squeeze before separating. She believed his eyes were moist as well.

"Be safe, Ko-fu."

"You too, Sa-mekh."

It took a full 397 seconds after he strode out the door before T'Alora regained her previous composure. She looked around at the two empty desks, dressers and closets that comprised the room and wondered when her roommates would arrive. Taking a deep breath she reached for the PADD on her desk and sat down on her bed, stretching out as she reviewed the layout of the school, her class schedule, and the texts she would need to purchase—all in order to pass the time before her new life truly commenced.

* * *

><p>*sa-kai = Vulkhansu for brother<p>

*ko-kai = Vulkhansu for sister

*ko-fu = Vulkhansu for daughter


	3. Chapter 3

**Poleia and Casey**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.231, 1315 hours. **She returned from lunch to find her room crammed full of Vulcans moving every which way with boxes and bags of belongings. Try as she might T'Alora could not determine just which one of the ten people hovering about her were her new roommate. All wore the same gray/green robes and tunics and had similar tan coloring and brown hair. There were three men, two women, four girls and one boy all silently setting the room to rights. Not wanting to interrupt their work she unobtrusively made her way to her desk and sat down to observe the controlled chaos.

Suddenly a little boy of roughly two standard years of age came out of the bathroom and stood before her, eyes squinting in curiosity as he took in her image. _So there were eleven of them then_, she thought to herself. The boy continued to study her without pretense and although their physical characteristics differed greatly his inquisitiveness reminded her of Se'tak.

"Hello."

"Hello. I am T'nar M'ren Petark. Who are you?"

"I am S'chn T'gai T'Alora."

Petark nodded at the introduction and took a step closer, quirking his head as he examined the side of her face. "Your ears are not as pointed as mine."

She bit back a smile. "No, they are not."

"Why?"

Just then the heavily pregnant woman made her way toward them, her long braid swinging down the length of her back and mid-way down her thighs. "Petark, I told you not to move from your seat."

The little boy dropped his chin to his chest. "Ha, Ko-mekh; however, I needed to use the lavatory."

The woman dropped down to one knee to be at eye-level with him. "Very well, but you should have returned to your seat and not interrupted this woman upon returning."

He swallowed guiltily. "Ha Ko-mekh."

As she straightened T'Alora stood and held her hand out in the ta'al. "Petark was not interrupting, we were merely getting acquainted. I am S'chn T'gai T'Alora."

"Greetings. I am T'nar M'ren P'Tis." P'Tis looked around the room at her brood before spotting the person she was looking for. "Poleia." The other tall young woman strolled forward, shoulders thrown back and head held high, her short brown hair just brushing her chin. "My daughter, Poleia," P'Tis introduced. "You will be sharing these quarters with her in the upcoming school year. Poleia, this is S'chn T'gai T'Alora."

"Dif-tor heh smusa, T'Alora."

"Sochya e dif, Poleia," she replied. Although she was reasonably certain her request would be denied she decided to ask anyway. "Are you and your family in need of assistance?"

"No we are not at this time." With that Poleia scooped up Petark and, with her mother behind her, placed him back atop her gray bedspread where he was safe and out of the way. T'Alora pretended to be engrossed in her PADD and tried to sneak glances at the T'nar M'ren family whenever she could. Though she was not certain, based on appearances alone, she believed Poleia to be the eldest child in the clan. Growing up T'Alora had thought having two younger brothers was challenging enough, but having eight younger siblings and another one on the way was an incredibly difficult image to reconcile. One eyebrow shot up at the very idea. Two of Poleia's sisters were also identical in appearance which was almost as uncommon a trait among Vulcan people as blindness.

All in all, T'Alora found her roommate's family to be very fascinating.

It took only 34.6 minutes after her return before the family began to say their farewells. She tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible but did not miss the quiver of Petark's lip as he slipped his hand in his sister's. Only when they were gone and the door closed did Poleia speak again.

"I would have introduced you to them all, however there was no time. They needed to return to the transport station in order to make their shuttle."

"Where were they traveling to?" she asked.

Poleia sat on her bed opposite T'Alora's desk and smoothed out her robes. "My family owns and operates an organic agricultural dome outside of New Gol; it is the largest in the region. The trip is two and a half hours by shuttle and the instrumentation in the dome is sensitive so that they cannot be away for extended periods of time."

"Understood." She set her PADD aside. "Petark reminds me of my brother Se'tak."

"You also have a younger brother?"

"Yes, I have two. Se'tak is four years younger then I and Selas is eight years younger."

Her roommate quirked an eyebrow. "Your parents did not see the logic in providing further off-spring for the rebuilding of our race?"

She saw no need nor had any desire in discussing her parents' reproductive choices so early in their acquaintance and therefore refrained from answering. Instead, T'Alora re-directed the conversation toward their respective fields of study.

"I plan on becoming an educator, as teachers are in great demand in and around New Gol. I will also be studying computer programming. And you?" Poleia politely inquired.

"My primary focus is in mechanical engineering as well as computer programming. I estimate a 78.7% probability that we will be in many of the same courses together in this field."

"Yes, I agree."

No more was said as a petite girl with wild, curly, golden hair burst through the doors, bags in hand and smile wide. "Greetings, girls!"

T'Alora blinked. Her Vulkhansu was nearly flawless, save for the emotive inflection. She had come across so very few humans of her experience who spoke her sa-mekh's native tongue so well (although her mother was one obvious and notable exception) that it discombobulated her.

"I'm Casey, Casey Morton." Poleia quickly stood and introduced herself while Casey seemed to struggle not to walk up and hug her. If she did T'Alora judged she would barely reach Poleia's shoulders she was so small compared to the two of them. The other woman finally turned her large green eyes on her and she too rose from her seat.

"And I am S'chn T'gai T'Alora."

The newcomer's jaw fell open. "No way!" she gushed, slipping back into her native Standard. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, you're Commander Uhura's daughter! AHHH! She's my hero! She inspired me to become a xenolinguist! AHHH!" This time Casey could not help herself and tackled T'Alora around the waist with a surprising amount of force, causing her to take a step back. Her eyes locked with Poleia's who looked on curiously.

"Sweetheart?"

"Aunt Jill!" Casey rushed to the door and grabbed the bewildered woman's wrist, dragging her in to the center of the room. "These are my roommates. This is Poleia, and you're never going to guess who this is…it's Commander Uhura's daughter!"

"Wow." Somehow, instead of conveying the longed-for surprise this Aunt Jill seemed to view her with a fair amount of sympathy, most likely for her niece's hyper-active state.

Remembering her manners, T'Alora nodded and properly introduced herself before asking if they were in need of assistance.

Jill did not have an opportunity to answer as Casey piped up from her bed where she was setting her belongings down. "Oh yes please, thank you so much! There's so much I want to ask you…" The blond headed out the door and down the hall, oblivious to who was or was not around her as T'Alora found her exit blocked by the older woman.

"Have patience with her, please. She's just very excited is all. Once you get to know her better you'll understand why…"

Just then Casey poked her head back in. "T? You coming? Oh, you don't mind if I call you T, do you?"

She looked back to the aunt and then again to her new roommate and shook her head, not fully comprehending the warning she was given. Ordinarily she would have discouraged the use of her family nickname, however, it felt _right_ coming from the bubbly person before her. She proceeded to follow Casey out the door, the human woman babbling all the way.

* * *

><p>Three hours and one very tearful (on Casey's part) good-bye later the girls were alone together in their room for the first time. It was very readily apparent that she and Poleia would have no trouble keeping their respective areas clear of clutter; Casey, however, was another story entirely. All manner of clothing was spread out atop her floral, multi-colored bedspread, and empty packing boxes were scattered about the floor just as haphazardly. As she moved back and forth to her closet she kept up a steady stream of chatter in fluent Vulkhansu.<p>

"I don't know why I brought this," she exclaimed, shaking out a downy, red, winter coat. "It doesn't get very cold on New Vulcan, not like it does in Bangor. That's in Maine, on Terra, where I'm from. Sometimes it gets to -7 degrees Celsius and I have to bundle up like the Abominable Snowman!" Laughing at herself, she looked over to her companions who stared back at her with blank faces. "Oh well, guess you wouldn't know much about him here, would you? Poleia, have you ever seen snow?"

She looked up from her reading. "While I am familiar with the meteorological phenomenon common to many parts of Terra I have never personally witnessed such an event."

"OOOOH! Then you're just going to have to come home with me some winter break and see it for yourself sometime. You too, T!" After hanging up the jacket she began folding up several blouses and fell into a happy silence.

"Casey, if I may inquire, is xenolinguistics to be your sole focus of study here at the Academy?" she ventured to ask. She could practically feel Poleia shooting daggers at the back of her neck, illogical though that was.

"Of course!" she replied, eyes glimmering. "And Vulcan culture and history. I mean, why else would I have worked so hard to get in to the VSA? By the way, T, how many languages are you fluent in? I imagine at least three…"

"I am fluent in five known Federation languages and proficient in four others."

The blond waggled her eyebrows appreciatively. "Nice! Poleia, what about you? How many languages are you fluent in?"

"Three: Vulkhansu, Standard and Andorian. My family works with many suppliers on Andor and Terra and learning the language was logical."

Again, Casey just grinned. "You're not too shabby in the language department there either, P!

"My name is Poleia," the girl replied, somewhat annoyed.

Casey just carried right on. "If it were up to me I'd just go around speaking Vulkhansu all the time but it started to drive my aunt a little nuts. I just love how the words roll off the tongue, but Aunt Jill doesn't understand more then 'dif-tor heh smusa'. She thought _she _might start going crazy if I kept running around the apartment talking to myself in every tongue I could manage to twist _my_ tongue around, but I love it!"

T'Alora's eyes twinkled. "My mother would agree with you and your passion."

"Really?" the other girl shrieked. "Oh I wish I could have met her! But I guess I'll just have to wait until next time. Do you know where the _Enterprise_ is headed next?"

As she was about to answer T'Alora could not help but notice that although Poleia held onto her PADD her eyes no longer scanned the page. "I was not apprised of their mission once they broke Vulcan orbit, no."

Casey sighed longingly. "It must've been great traveling the stars growing up. I always wished I could travel more. I thought about joining Starfleet, like my sister, but ultimately realized it wasn't for me. I know it's all about exploration and keeping the peace in the Federation but it's dangerous too and the fighting…" she sighed again, "I don't really like fighting. No, I figure I'll end up as a translator for some company, or maybe a teacher. Maybe I'll even work at one of the embassies someday…" her voice cut off as Poleia abruptly rose and crossed the room. "Where are you off to?"

"I am headed toward the dining hall. I require sustenance."

"Ok, great, let me just grab my ID badge and T and I will go with you; that way we can all get to know each other better." Casey began pulling open drawers and searching her desk for the required badge while T'Alora moved toward the door. Her Vulcan roommate did not appear to desire company but T'Alora thought that perhaps she could act as a buffer between the two during the meal; she hoped Casey at least knew enough about Vulcan etiquette not to try and engage either of them in discussion while they were actually eating.

Finding the ID clipped to the lanyard draped around her bedpost Casey snatched it up and rushed to join them. "I hear the plomeek soup here is delicious!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hope you liked this little update! Also, for anyone who may be interested, Poleia's name is pronounced 'Po-lay-uh'. If you have any other questions feel free to PM me or leave a review; thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Fish Out of Water**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.256, 1830 hours. **The first week of classes went by quickly and by the second week the girls discovered a workable routine. T'Alora found that she shared three classes with Poleia and only one with Casey which was unfortunate only in that she had fallen into an easy rapport with Casey and would not have minded spending more time in her presence. The petite young woman was as intelligent as she was lively and seemed to make friends wherever she went, no matter their species, and being around her reminded her of home.

On the other hand, while her human roommate remained as effusive as ever T'Alora still could not get a 'feel' as to where she stood with Poleia. If she did not know better she would have thought her haughty, or at the very least indifferent towards her and Casey. T'Alora began to wonder if this was typical Vulcan behavior or if her own expectations were tainted by having been raised primarily in a human environment. Why else would she be scrutinizing Poleia's countenance and minute facial expressions for a visible reaction denoting approval or disapproval? However over time, and in comparison to other Vulcan classmates of her limited acquaintance, T'Alora decided that Poleia simply disliked them.

Soon, though, she had little time to ponder the conundrum that was her third roommate because by the following week her ambitious course load began to catch up with her. In addition to computer programming and mechanical engineering she had planned to minor in astrophysics but the homework was proving impossible for her to manage. At home she had averaged six hours of sleep a night for optimum function; now, however, she was barely managing three. She had little time to meditate, let alone exercise, and she discovered her nerves were beginning to fray under the stress.

That Friday evening she waited until Casey and Poleia were out of the room before comming home to seek advice. In their own way her parents told her what she already knew she would hear; that she should proceed however she thought best and that they would support her decision, whether that meant soldiering on with her crammed course load or scaling back on her academics. The unsatisfactory response, the large pile of PADDs on her desk and the even larger pile of laundry in the corner compelled her to head toward her sa-mekh-al's.

The house was dark as she approached, duffel bag full of unwashed robes and tunics slung over her shoulder. She entered and called out for him once but it was clear her sa-mekh-al was not there. Depositing the contents of the bag near the refresher she separated out the loads and got a wash started, then proceeded to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of kassa juice. It was cold and sweet but not enough to keep her awake and she soon fell asleep sitting on her stool at the island.

* * *

><p>"T'Alora." A large warm hand shook her again. "T'Alora." She came to with a start, blinking dazedly at the bright light of the kitchen as she determined her whereabouts. Her sa-mekh-al moved into her field of vision as he headed toward the stasis unit, retrieving the pitcher of juice and a fresh glass. Abashed, she realized she had been so overcome with exhaustion as to fall asleep in Sa-mekh-al's kitchen for the last 2.7 hours.<p>

Studying him as he took a seat opposite her pouring the juice she saw that he was wearing his formal robes. "Tonk-peh*, Sa-mekh-al."

"Tonk-peh, Ko-fu-il*." He passed her glass back over to her. "It is gratifying to see you again."

"And you as well. You have returned from important business, I see?"

"A frivolous diplomatic function hosted by the ambassador for Earth, nothing more. I trust all is well at the Academy?"

T'Alora chewed her lower lip and looked off to the side. "No, it is not." One eyebrow lurched up in surprise but he said nothing more, waiting instead for her to elaborate. "I find I am unable to complete my coursework in a satisfactory manner, despite numerous and repeated hours of study. As a result I am losing sleep and further hindering my academic progress as I grow more inefficient by the day. I am uncertain as to how to remedy the situation."

Her sa-mekh-al looked thoughtful for a moment then requested if he might review her schedule. Retrieving one of her PADDs from the duffle she handed it over then took out a load from the refresher and started a new one.

"You are taking two more classes then I did at the height of my academic career at the former Science Academy," he declared. Her carefully schooled features hid her surprise but she was shocked nonetheless. Previously she had been working under the impression that her course load was on par with the other Vulcan students. Returning the PADD to her he asked, "May I make a recommendation?"

"Please."

"It is unnecessary for you to pursue a computer programming degree at the VSA. I am uncertain as to why you have not discovered this for yourself already but while Professors Manas, Riyu and Hoir are exceptional in their field your skills in this arena rival their own."

T'Alora freely admitted that the coursework in that area of study had thus far been what her mother would term 'busy work', yet she had continued diligently onward with the impression that she would learn newer and more useful techniques once her classmates' abilities caught up to her own. She was not aware that her teachers had nothing new to teach.

"You have studied well under your sa-mekh and are not in need of further instruction; I therefore recommend that you concentrate your studies on mechanical engineering and astrophysics in order to gain the most benefit from your education."

Containing her smile she looked up at him, eyes bright. "Thank you, Sa-mekh-al. Your logic and advice are most sound."

Only she would ever notice the barest of grins he gave in return. "No thanks are needed. It is my privilege and duty to guide you."

The buzzer rang out on the refresher and she rose to retrieve the load. "Have you eaten?" he asked. She shook her head. "Then I will prepare a meal and we may discuss how you are finding the Academy some more."

* * *

><p>* Tonk-peh = Vulkhansu, Hello (informal)<p>

* Ko-fu-il = Vulkhansu, Granddaughter


	5. Chapter 5

**Pizza**

_** Ben's Pizzeria, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.280, 1645 hours.** As the bell tinkled over the door Ben looked up from behind the counter and his jaw fell in shock. He'd opened up his little shop across from the Terran embassy on the recommendation of his brother-in-law only three weeks ago and this was a first; he had Vulcan customers, three of them to be precise, and a blond human girl skipping about in-between them and chattering away easily in Vulkhansu.

If they didn't speak Standard he didn't know what he was going to do.

This was all Paul's fault. He'd urged him to come out here and set up shop months ago and he stupidly agreed. There weren't many Terran restaurants in New Shi'Kahr, Paul said, and the location right near the embassy was perfect. So what he didn't speak Vulkhansu? Vulcans didn't eat with their hands, they'd never come in, he'd have human customers and everything would be fine!

He should've killed his sister's husband when he had the chance.

Rubbing his flour covered hands down his apron Ben tried to cover over his shock and greet his guests, thanking God the restaurant was quiet and empty for the moment. "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Yes!" the little blond girl exclaimed suddenly. "I've been craving pizza for weeks! I didn't even know New Shi'Kahr _had_ a pizza shop until T'Mera here told me about it. She was in Yenera Square the other day when she spotted your place. She didn't even know what pizza was so I told her we _had_ to come here so she and Woral could try it. I'm Casey, and these are my friends T'Alora, T'Mera and Woral." Each of the Vulcans nodded in greeting as they were introduced while Casey thrust out her hand.

He shook it gently, his big paw covering hers entirely, all the while feeling the blood rush to his face. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Ben Johnson, the owner."

Casey's green eyes twinkled. "Mr. Johnson, I can already tell I'm going to LOVE this place! Now I know we just met but would you mind doing us a small favor?"

He looked around at the stony-faced Vulcans, still slightly unnerved by them even after living on the planet for the last two months. "Uh, sure?"

She grinned. "Great! I'm helping my friends here by tutoring them in Standard and I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind trying to explain what a pizza is and how it's made and all that. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"No, sure, that'll be fine." He tried hard not to squirm. He was no teacher but he did know pizza and figured he'd give it his best shot. "PIZZA IS A FOOD MADE FROM…"

The darker skinned Vulcan-T'Alora?-cut him off. "Pardon the interruption, but my colleagues are not deaf, they merely lack practice in listening to and speaking Federation Standard. If you would please speak to them normally your recitation of the origin of this food would be better served."

"You speak Standard?" he asked in disbelief.

She blinked. "Yes."

"Oh." He looked over at the other woman and the man by her side and gave his first lesson on pizza. The entire time he spoke their expressions never wavered and he wondered if they thought him a joke. When he finished he nervously shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for someone to say something or possibly place an order.

The tall man finally broke the silence. "Sir, do you need to urinate?"

His eyebrows shot up into his forehead. "I'm sorry, what'd you just ask me?"

"Why do you think that?" Casey asked of her friend. His answer, whatever it was, had her laughing so hard she was crying. When she looked up at him she instantly sobered up. "Oh no, Mr. Johnson, it's not you! Woral was trying to read your body language. He said that 'your movements indicated that your bladder was at capacity and that he suspected you were in need of a lavatory'."

He snickered a little at that too, feeling some of the anxiety leave him. Just then the other Vulcan girl, the one who'd been quiet the whole time, asked her friend a question. Casey smiled and suggested she ask him.

"For one who has not consumed pizza prior to this occasion, which combination of…" her eyes darted back to Casey for confirmation, "…'toppings' would you…na'shikhau?"

"Recommend is the word you are looking for, T'Mera," the other Vulcan girl corrected her.

"Yes, recommend."

All four pairs of eyes looked up at him expectantly. "Well…my personal favorite is the pepperoni pizza…"

"No!" Casey cried and T'Alora said simultaneously.

"What is this pepp-er-oni?" the young man asked.

"It is a meat product that originates on Terra, in a country on the European continent known as Italy," T'Alora replied.

"Understood."

Casey looked to him, then to her friends, and then to the overhead menu. "You know what? I think for the first time we'll try something safe, like a large half and half, half cheese and half mushroom. Does that sound good to you guys?"

The two learning Standard conferred with each other in Vulkhansu before agreeing while T'Alora nodded and scanned the available tables. "One large half and half coming right up! You guys want anything to drink with that?" he asked as he moved to punch in the order.

"I would like to make a purchase of one Guinness, please."

Ben gave him the eye. He couldn't tell for sure, knowing how Vulcans aged differently then humans, but still, he suspected. "I'll need to see some ID to make sure you're over 21, son."

"I am 18.28 years of age by the Terran calendar and I am not your son. Furthermore I do not see how my age should preclude me from making purchase of this beverage."

Before he could reply Casey began explaining things to him in his own tongue. "Interesting," he murmured, reviewing the menu board once more. "Sir, would you allow me to make a purchase of your chocolate cake?"

Ben shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Woral's eyes went wide and that's when Ben got his first lesson on intoxicating substances for Vulcans. It was enlightening to say the least and in the end the young man got his Guinness.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes and two trips to the kitchen later (he forgot the utensils) Ben stood proudly at the side of their table, watching along with Casey and T'Alora as their friends tried their first ever slice of pizza.<p>

He'd never been prouder of any pie he'd ever made.

All three observed T'Mera playing it safe by sliding a small piece from the cheese side of the pizza onto her plate. She examined it as if it were alive, even poking the surface twice with her fork. Cutting a small bite she brought it up near her mouth, inhaled deep, then chewed. Her movements were so slow and deliberate he thought she would never get to the point where she had to swallow.

Woral, on the other hand, was much more adventurous, opting to try the mushroom. He took the largest piece available and plunked it smack down in the middle of his plate, examining it in a similar fashion to T'Mera. Cutting off a generous bite near the crust he barely let it sit on his tongue before swallowing it down and cutting off another bite.

During the entire ordeal not one of them spoke a word, though many glances were exchanged. The anticipation was killing him.

"Well…?"

Three dark pairs of eyes were suddenly on him.

"Mr. Johnson," Casey stage-whispered, beckoning him closer. "As a rule, Vulcans consider it rude to carry on a conversation during a meal. But I think they really like it."

"Really?" He turned back to his Vulcan clientele who had resumed eating. "Well good, good! I'll leave you four alone now, just let me know if you need anything else, ok? Enjoy!"

* * *

><p>Woral returned the following day and ordered a small spinach and tomato pie to go along with his Guinness. Casey came back a week later with an even larger group of friends, this time taking up two whole tables. Where once he wouldn't even get Vulcans looking in his store window now they made up almost half his clientele. Some days his tables were so full of VSA students that his former regulars had to stand by and wait for space to open up.<p>

He decided that as soon as he had the funds he was going to open up a second restaurant _much_ closer to campus.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **This chapter is rated M for dark sexual themes. It's also a little OOC for T'Alora but I'm trying to set stuff up for later. Either way consider yourselves warned.

* * *

><p><strong>Attack<strong>

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.311, 2030 hours. **The attacks had been occurring with greater frequency over the last three and a half weeks despite the increase in security patrols. Four human female students and one human female staff member had been overpowered and sexually assaulted by an unknown assailant while on grounds.

It was worrisome for all the women on campus.

Professors and administrators alike continually cautioned everyone to travel around grounds in pairs and try to remain indoors during the evening hours. Poleia and T'Alora both made sure to stress to Casey that she heed these warnings.

That evening Poleia, who never addressed T'Alora unless absolutely necessary, called her on her personal comm. She returned immediately to their room and when she entered she saw Poleia sitting on Casey's bed rubbing circle's into the other girl's back. Casey was facing the wall, curled up in the fetal position and crying profusely.

"I returned from the shower and found her in this attitude," Poleia explained. "I was uncertain of who else to contact."

"Understood." Settling down in Poleia's vacated seat she took over comforting Casey, going so far as to curl up behind her so that she could share her warmth and provide additional support. She waited until her friend managed to calm down before asking after the cause of her distress. Casey rolled over, eyes and cheeks still slick. "I…I was almost…and…if they hadn't…then he would've…" Her crying took up again in earnest.

As she examined her friend she began to notice the purple bruise forming near her temple. T'Alora's blood ran cold at the knowledge that there was a sentient being out there who would intentionally hurt someone so loving and kind. Behind her she heard Poleia cease her pacing and gasp.

"I know you warned me," Casey explained again, "But I was…alone in the labs. It was…still early. I thought…I thought…" She gulped for air and T'Alora urged her to sit upright while dispatching Poleia to fetch some water. Once she had drained a full glass Casey continued. "He had his hands…all over me!…I couldn't tell…what species…he was just…so strong…and if they hadn't come…around the corner…when they did…" She looked up at her with glassy eyes. "I ran. I couldn't…I couldn't…"

"It is alright now. You are safe." Meanwhile Poleia moved toward the comm unit, presumably to call the authorities. "Stop." She momentarily removed herself from Casey's grip and moved to stand on the opposite side of the room for a private conference. Speaking low she said, "The authorities have been unable to capture this man. I have a plan that will increase the odds of his arrest tonight by 71.93%."

Her roommate examined her skeptically but said nothing.

* * *

><p>Ransacking the back of her closet she had never been more grateful to her mother for insisting she purchase a few articles of Terran clothing in addition to her usual robes. Suitably dressed in jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved navy top, she turned to her roommates for their approval while finger-combing her hair loose from it's long braid to help hide her ears.<p>

"No T, you can't!" Casey cried. "He…"

"I will not allow him another opportunity to hurt you or any other woman on this campus. His aborted attack on you this evening suggests that he is likely to strike again this same night. It is my plan to encounter him and stop him before he does."

The room was silent save for Casey's dejected whimpering as she sat back down on the side of the bed.

"Your logic is sound," Poleia coolly replied, "But I too concede with Casey. You may still be overpowered by the attacker."

"I have been trained in our people's defensive arts since the age of three. I will be able to subdue him."

Poleia stared at her another moment before moving toward Casey's closet. After rummaging around she emerged with a black knit cap and affixed it to T'Alora's head, pulling it down low to cover her brow. "Your appearance now properly mimics that of a human both in back as well as in front."

T'Alora made her way toward the door and Casey once more jumped up to try and stop her. "T, I'm serious, don't do this! I'll be fine and the campus security will…" her words were cut short as she slumped unceremoniously to the ground.

"Why did you do that?" T'Alora asked.

Poleia blinked at her. "She will be unconscious for approximately 5.4 hours and will be unaffected by our removal from the room."

"What do you mean 'our' removal from the room?"

She stepped closer, meeting her level gaze head on. "I will not allow you to attempt this plan alone. I intend to accompany you."

One eyebrow rose. "A Vulcan escorting a human will not draw the attacker out."

"No, it will not," she answered coolly, "Which is why I will be following you at a discrete distance should you require assistance. I have successfully done this for each of my siblings during their kahs-wan without their knowledge."

T'Alora narrowed her eyes distrustfully. Poleia had repeatedly rebuffed their attempts to engage with her since the beginning of the semester; it remained to be seen why she was being so helpful now. "I still do not understand why you are so eager and willing to assist me in this task."

"I have misjudged you both and seek to rectify the situation beginning now. Also, I do not wish to see Casey further hurt by this monster."

"In that we are in agreement." Together they picked up their unconscious roommate and settled her under the covers of her bed. "Let us depart."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2279.312, 0018 hours. **In the last 4.58 hours no fewer then nine different males of various species had approached her with offers to safely escort her home. She refused each one despite repeated appeals and maintained her meandering trail around campus, eyes and ears open for an attack or for Poleia's presence. She detected neither.

Passing the rock garden she noted how pleasing it was and resolved to make an effort to spend more time there when a sudden rush of footsteps was heard coming up behind her. She continued walking as if unaware until the last second when she crouched down, using the man's own momentum to flip him end over end until he landed flat on his back with the wind knocked out of his lungs.

His cloak fell away to reveal a very ugly and angry Romulan.

"Threi*!" he snarled, spitting out blood as he swiftly jumped back to his feet. Swiping at her he connected with the side of her head, causing T'Alora to see stars. He moved again and this time she was prepared, easily dodging the blow while solidly connecting with his kidney. T'Alora prepared to strike again when he abruptly caught and held her by the wrist while simultaneously ripping off her hat. She could _feel_ how driven he was, propelled solely by blood and lust. She saw the faces of her colleagues as he replayed snatches of the assaults in his mind, including his earlier grab for Casey.

Rage bubbled up ever higher from the pit of her stomach.

He pulled her in until their faces were mere millimeters away from each other and she could smell the ale on his breath. Her heart thrumming in horror T'Alora watched as he studied the curve of her ear and the angle of her brow, made apparent once her hat was knocked off. "Vulcan threi," he repeated, voice dripping with disdain. He cupped her breast roughly with his free hand, eliciting a gasp. T'Alora twisted away but his grip on her wrist remained firm. He laughed in the face of her spirit and leaned in to whisper into her ear. "I shall enjoy breaking you…"

* * *

><p>It was highly unusual for a Vulcan to 'black out'; however, that is exactly what she experienced. T'Alora did not recall knocking her assailant clean off his feet nor straddling his chest and pummeling him until his face resembled raw cow meat, her hands dripping with a mixture of crimson and emerald blood. She only vaguely remembered strong hands foisting her off the Romulan as she kicked and cursed at his supine form.<p>

Later she recalled that it was Poleia who brought her back to herself, sitting her down atop a nearby boulder and slapping her once across the face to temper her hysteria. As T'Alora panted hard and worked to reign in her emotions the other girl sat down beside her and placed a sympathetic hand on her knee. T'Alora looked down at the touch and then over to the walkway where the Romulan was being arrested. "It is finished," Poleia uttered conclusively.

Her eyes gleamed menacingly and she smiled a small smile. She was fully aware of the her attacker's past and what he had intended to do in the future and she did not regret a single moment of her loss of control.

* * *

><p>* threi = Romulan, b**ch<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Healing**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.312, 1032 hours. **"S'chn T'gai T'Alora Amadika, I did not go through 17.5 hours of labor for you just to have you put your life at risk so needlessly! What were you thinking?"

"Mama, I…"

On the other end of the screen her mother waved her off. "Save it, Missy! I don't want to hear it because knowing you you'll come up with some perfectly _logical_ explanation as to why you purposefully threw yourself into the path of a sexual predator! Honestly, T'Alora, what were you thinking? He could've killed you…or _worse_!" It was then that her mother looked over to her sa-mekh who was conspicuously quiet. "Spock, say something!"

He made a point of looking directly at her. "I have no comment on the matter," he replied before moving out of frame.

T'Alora was more hurt by his unspoken disappointment then by any lecture he could have given.

However, her mother seemed to have enough to say to make up for both parents as she continued to admonish her very loudly in Swahili. She was hyper aware of the spectacle they must be making as her roommates were still in the room, keeping quiet off camera with their heads bent over their desks concentrating on their PADDs. Although they had been given a reprieve from attending their classes for the day while the investigation was underway they still had work to complete.

"T'Alora, are you even listening to me?"

She let loose a very soft sigh. "Yes, Mama."

"Good. I want you to promise me that you will never do something so reckless, careless and asinine EVER AGAIN. Do you hear me?"

She hung her head low. "Yes, Mama."

"Do you mean it!"

"Yes, Mama."

"Good." Her mother took a few breaths to calm down and added quietly, "This is the kind of stunt I worry about Se'tak pulling, not you. Honestly, when we got that call at 3 in the morning my heart stopped!" She ran a hand down her haggard-looking face. "Now how are your hands?"

T'Alora held her hands up for inspection; aside from minimal residual bruising they were sufficiently recovered. "The dermal regenerator was able to repair 99.8% of the damage sustained."

"Ok." Although she had calmed down somewhat her mother's concern was still obvious. T'Alora tried not to flinch as her gaze settled on the deep bruise at her temple. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Rather then argue semantics and the variable definitions accompanying the term 'alright' she decided to save herself the trouble and answer honestly, if vaguely. "I am well."

"Ok." Her mother continued to shift about uncomfortably in her seat but said nothing more, and as T'Alora had nothing further to add that would not upset her mother more they watched each other in silence. "Well I can see you have things to do so I'll let you go. I love you, Sweetie, and don't you _ever_ do anything like this _ever_ again."

She bowed her head. "I will not, Mama."

As she hung up the line she turned to see Casey's piercing gaze already on her. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble, T."

One eyebrow shot up. "You speak Swahili as well?"

Her friend shrugged, a small smile forming on her lips that did not quite reach her eyes. "I don't need to. That kind of tongue lashing is universal."

"Indeed."

"Thanks all the same, for everything." Casey came over and gave her hug, then startled Poleia by giving her one too.

The other girl turned in her seat to stare after her, the shock clear on her face. "You are a most emotive creature," Poleia declared.

It was the first time Casey genuinely laughed since the whole ordeal began.

* * *

><p>Spock waited until Nyota was busy preparing for her shift before placing his call. He had been unaware that his mentor had survived the Destruction until he came upon him at the VSA after depositing T'Alora there at the start of term. Thirty years on it was now his daughter that was in need of assistance and Spock could think of no one else but Telnor who would be able to help her.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2279.312, 1400 hours.** He unobtrusively observed the Council proceedings from the wings of the amphitheater as the investigation neared it's conclusion. After receiving the call from his former orensu* he was more intrigued than ever to see the young person who had single-handedly tracked and taken down the most dangerous predator in New Shi'Kahr since the city's inception.

She stepped forward as her name was called, head held high, and Telnor knew he would have recognized her anywhere. She possessed her father's spirit as well as his eyes.

Kenip opened up the proceedings. "S'chn T'gai T'Alora, we find that while your logic in this instance was sound, your resultant behavior was not in keeping with the Vulcan tradition which you have dedicated your life to upholding. What say you?"

Eyes straight ahead she replied, "I acted only in service to the Academy Community. I have nothing further to offer."

"Understood."

Telnor watched the group confer amongst themselves while the child continued to stand straight-backed and eyes forward. Their discussion was unimportant; he had already put forth his services for counseling the girl long before she entered the chamber. This meeting was merely a formality so that they could conclude their proceedings and he could examine his newest charge. He was pleased to discover that for being ¾ human T'Alora's control was remarkable.

Still, even from this distance he could find the cracks in her veneer.

"We will make note of this lapse in behavior in your permanent record. You are now free to go. This meeting is adjourned." Kenip rose and exited the room, the others following close behind.

T'Alora was angry; he observed this in the flare of her nostrils as she remained standing alone in the center of the room. When she at last strode out of the amphitheater he continued to observe her from a distance and noted that she was headed for the rock garden on the western side of campus.

Telnor followed.

It took 7.87 minutes to reach the garden and throughout that time she continued on unmindful of his presence. There was currently nothing in her gait or facial expression that hinted at her distraught emotional state. He watched as T'Alora sequestered herself in a far corner, partially obscured from view, her back turned to the campus…

…and promptly kicked the large boulder in front of her repeatedly.

It was such a childish gesture, yet in spite of himself Telnor found it endearing.

Taking great care to alert her to his presence he scraped his cane loudly across the walkway and she instantly froze. He continued up the path as if unaware of her earlier behavior only to pause a short ways in front of her. Head bent toward the ground, T'Alora ignored his presence for several seconds before he spoke her name and forced her attention on him. With a look he bid her attend and, unable to refuse an elder, she dutifully fell into step beside him.

Her curiosity radiated off of her in great waves yet still he said nothing. As they reached their destination he entered the proper code, the door pulling back to reveal an expansive and-by Vulcan standards-very eclectic office. Crossing the threshold Telnor next made his way to the tea kettle as she stood just inside the entryway, wearily eying him and her surroundings.

"Tea?"

T'Alora looked up at the sound of his voice and nodded her assent. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her gravitate toward different items around the room-a tribal mask presented to him by the High Queen of Gisor, an ancient Terran flute, the bones of a Urelian mongbat. After working for 105 years as an under minister for the Vulcan Cultural Council, Telnor returned to his first love of anthropology, initially as a field researcher and later as a teacher. It was logic that led him to return to his primary field of interest, though the few Terrans of his acquaintance who knew his story called his decision a 'mid-life crisis'.

Now however, at 289 years of age, this office was all he had to show for his work; the rest of his treasures lost with Vulcan herself.

Kaiidth. He was allowing his mind to wander from the matter at hand.

* * *

><p>The Elder who had brought her to his office was curious for a full-blooded Vulcan. He was quite advanced in years and wore his white hair fairly long so that it grazed the side of his neck; he was stoop-shouldered too, requiring the use of a cane, which was normally considered a sign of weakness for such a proud race.<p>

As he continued to focus on the tea T'Alora stopped examining him and continued to look at the curious artifacts he had on display. She recognized a handful of items-a Mayan flute, an early-Andorian bicycle, a Poltini hand fan-before pausing in front of the 3-D chess set. It resembled the one her sa-mekh kept.

"You have quite a mastery over your emotive displays, young one." She tensed; as Se'tak was known to say, she felt that there was indeed a 'but' coming. "Yet your emotions still have a great deal of control over you."

She suppressed her irritation and watched as he set the tea tray down on the side table before taking a seat.

"Do you meditate daily?" he asked.

"Ha, Osu.".

"My name is Telnor."

"Ha, Osu Telnor."

She watched a flicker of some indefinable emotion cross his expression as he observed her over the rim of his cup. Following his example T'Alora also sampled the tea.

"You meditate, though perhaps not as much as you should."

One eyebrow rose. If she were to engage in more meditation she suspected her entire day would be spent in the lotus position before an asenoi.

Telnor's hand swept out over the board. "Do you play?"

T'Alora eyed him critically. She simply could not make him out. "I do, though not often. I prefer to spend my time engaged in other pursuits."

"Such as improving your mastery of the defensive arts in the gymnasium."

Now both eyebrows shot up into her forehead. How he had deduced as much about her routine and personal habits after so brief an acquaintance she could not even begin to determine. "Yes."

Wordlessly he shot a hand out and made an opening move. A challenge, then. T'Alora swept the tails of her robes aside, took a seat, and countered his move. They remained locked in intellectual combat for 33 minutes, the victor as yet undetermined, before Telnor spoke again.

"Do you know why your feelings still maintain control, despite your years of discipline?"

Coming from a human this question would have been considered rhetorical. Coming from Telnor…well, she could only guess. She kept silent and was not left waiting long.

"It is because you do not take the proper care to analyze your emotions, you merely acknowledge their existence and then suppress them. Suppression alone is not control."

* * *

><p>Telnor watched her closely out of his peripheral vision; his young charge sat completely frozen for 4.2 minutes. But it was still there in the brief but rapid flutter of her eyes; T'Alora had acknowledged the truth to his enlightened words and the incalculably heavy weight they brought to bear, suppressed the great emotional upheaval they brought about within her, and moved on.<p>

When she had sufficiently regained her composure she brought her Queen to E7, level 2. To anyone who had not been watching her for the last 5 minutes this maneuver alone proved how shaken T'Alora truly was.

With a steady hand he brought forth his Bishop to D5, level 3. "Check."

Her deep brown eyes roved over every square millimeter of the board. She could have sacrificed any number of Rooks, a Knight and even her Queen but the outcome would inevitably be the same. T'Alora overturned her King before that could come to pass and graciously accepted defeat.

"You have some skill in this game and yet you have not won. You know the rules, the strategies, and you see the board laid out before you. It is not new. Why, then, did you lose?"

This time she answered him readily. "I have not enough practice in the game, Osu Telnor."

"Agreed." He nodded and waved a hand out over the game, picking up her overturned King. "Consider the pieces on this board. In the beginning of the game they were set out in a logical, well-ordered pattern. As the match progressed they were shuffled about-to the untrained observer their movements would appear random but to those who know the rules the patterns are once again logical and well-ordered. Everything is predictable-" here he glanced at her "-until it is not."

Telnor made sure T'Alora followed his hand as he completed the moves she would have made to stave off checkmate, plucking each of her pieces off the board one-by-one and bringing them to his side. "This upsetsthe balance of the game; and if you do not review the techniques that brought about the loss you will never be able to learn from them and achieve victory."

Terrans had a phrase-'If looks could kill'-and that was precisely how T'Alora was eying him now. Carefully, coolly, he held her withering gaze, pushing her as far as he dared. Telnor knew she would never strike out at him, physically or verbally, but there was a 36.5% chance she might leave before he was finished. When he believed he had tested her patience far enough he set his mug back down on the tray and rose.

"Would you care to play again?"

He knew how she was going to respond before she even said it. "Perhaps another time, Osu."

"Of course." Telnor deposited the empty mugs in the sink and turned to see her edging nearer to his door. "Our schedules have identical free periods on Thursdays beginning at 1400 hours. I will see you here for a re-match at 1430."

With a parting nod and a glare she departed, no doubt for another strenuous round of physical conditioning. However, Telnor knew he had gotten through to her. T'Alora would come around begrudgingly yet she would come around, and as they continued she would realize what a great source of support he could be as she navigated the turbulent waters of her emotions.

And thus Thursdays with Telnor was born.

* * *

><p>* orensu = Vulkhansu, student<p>

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story! I'm really glad you like it and I hope you'll keep coming back for more!


	8. Chapter 8

**A New Addition for the T'nar M'ren Clan**

_** Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.336, 1610 hours. **Poleia had no sooner entered the room then Casey wrapped her arms around her in a hug. "Congratulations! You're a big sister!"

The young Vulcan raised an eyebrow at the curious statement. "I fail to understand the purpose of such felicitations as I have been an elder sister for the last 16.4 years."

"Yes, but you're a _new_ big sister! Your mom had the baby!"

"I am well aware that my youngest brother was born at approximately 1000 hours this morning. The only information I currently do not possess is his name."

Here T'Alora chimed in. "His name is Palak."

She nodded. "It is a good name, one given to him to honor my father's cousin who perished in the Destruction."

Casey returned to her seat sulking. "Sometimes you two really know how to suck the fun out of things." Before her roommate had a chance to reach the comm. she remembered something she wanted to ask. "Poleia, is it common for Vulcans to host large family gatherings so soon after giving birth?"

She looked at her quizzically. "No, it is not. Typically the clan convenes a month after the child is born to partake in the naming ceremony. Why do you ask?"

"Well when your dad called there were all these people moving around in the background and they all seemed to have a family resemblance so I thought maybe they were your extended family come to visit and help out."

"My parents were both orphans and my mother only has one sister who resides with her family in New Shannai'Kahr. What you likely saw on-screen were my younger brothers and sisters."

Casey shook her head. "No way! There were way too many people around for that."

Poleia sat down on her bed and met their roommate's gaze. "As of today I now have five brothers and four sisters."

"Bull shit."

She looked Casey over in puzzlement. "I fail to see how excrement from a Terran creature factors in with the number of siblings I have."

"Her exclamation was a means of conveying disbelief; the excrement in question was metaphorical," T'Alora explained. Turning to Casey she added, "Poleia speaks the truth. I saw them all during move-in day."

Clearly their roommate still thought they were trying to 'pull one over on her'. "Ok…if you have nine younger brothers and sisters then what are all their names?"

Without batting an eye Poleia replied, "Pahan, Pesach, Pera, Pana, P'Lila, Pravar, P'Ayis, Petark and Palak."

Casey just gawked at her as she returned to her work completely unfazed. "You're telling me that your mother gave birth ten times? That's insane!"

"Nine times," Poleia corrected her without looking up from her work. "My sisters Pera and Pana are identical twins."

Casey was so stunned she started to stutter and T'Alora inserted herself back into the conversation. "Perhaps at the end of term we can all be formally introduced?"

"Perhaps."

For the remainder of the afternoon Casey continued to shake her head and mutter to herself in disbelief.

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><p><strong>AN:** Today's update is short and sweet. Hope you still liked it though!


	9. Chapter 9

**Party Time**

_**Ben's Pizzeria, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2279.351, 2015 hours. **"I still fail to understand the importance of this ritual," Poleia declared.

T'Alora watched with some amusement as Casey promptly spit out her mouthful of root beer and cackled. "Seriously, Poleia? Come on! It's a birthday party in _your honor_! We did the same thing for Max and T'Alora on their birthdays!" Their roommate continued to stare at her blankly. "Oh this is too much! I'm going to go get a refill. T, maybe you could explain…" she gestured between the two of them then walked off toward the beverage counter.

The two young women looked at one another, T'Alora inwardly grinning at her friend's obvious confusion. "The purpose of a birthday celebration is to commemorate one's entry into the world. It is primarily a human custom that has since been adopted by other cultures within the Federation."

Poleia glanced around the table at their companions. Including themselves there were three humans, five Vulcans, two Andorians, one Syllenite and one Orion present for the 'party'. She was very quick to point out that the humans in attendance were among the minority, therefore it was illogical of them to concede to Casey's whims in this regard.

T'Alora was equally quick to argue quite the opposite. "Gatherings such as this are indeed logical, though they may outwardly appear otherwise. In this instance they promote interspecies camaraderie and allow for the dissemination of information about other cultures that one cannot expect to find in a classroom setting. Also, this activity allows Casey and the other non-Vulcans of our acquaintance to publicly demonstrate their appreciation for you as a friend as well as celebrate your individuality."

She took another long draught of her beer before turning her attention back to T'Alora "Understood; however, once this ritual is completed it need not be repeated, correct?"

She shook her head in the negative and Poleia almost looked as if she were going to groan. Arching an eyebrow T'Alora asked, "With Casey as a roommate you could hardly expect to spend the entirety of your time at the VSA in study, could you? This observance of the day of your birth will be repeated again in 364 days in accordance with the Terran calendar."

Casey was just returning with one of the servers carrying over their pizzas. "My ears were burning, what were you saying about me?"

"Oh good, food!" Magras—the hulk of a male Orion whom they had befriended—cried out as he lunged for the trays. In his haste he knocked Poleia's beer all over the table…prompting T'Alora to now have to explain the concept of a 'party foul'.

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><p><strong>AN:** I know, another short chapter, I'm sorry! I promise next week's will be longer, just have to deal with some real life craziness first.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Happy Mother's Day everyone! Hope you enjoy the update!

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><p><strong>Homeward Bound<strong>

_**Beta Quadrant,**_** 2279.355, 1130 hours.** It had taken 36.7 hours and four separate shuttles to get here but the _Enterprise _was now coming into view. T'Alora stared at it longingly and felt her heart skip a beat as it began to loom ever larger in her window.

She was home.

The ship itself did not look much different then when she left it-aside from a phaser blast in the hull which was currently under repair-yet she felt different upon returning. She had been away from the _Enterprise _for 4.3 months; she had never been gone from the ship that long before save for when it was undergoing major repairs, and even then she usually found one pretense or another to be brought back aboard however briefly. The ship was as much a part of her as she was of it. She doubted anyone loved it more then her save for Uncle Scotty and Uncle Jim.

Which was why she was concerned about how she would be received.

T'Alora knew she had changed during her time away. She had undergone a whole host of new experiences while abroad that were bound to affect her personality as well as her worldview. Before she left for school she was considered one of the crew in all ways save rank: would she be considered an outsider now, or would she revert back to her former ways and undermine the personal growth she had undergone?

There was no way of calculating the odds of either case.

The shuttle bay doors slowly opened and Lieutenant Radzell, a new crewmember, deftly brought them down inside the ship. Aside from the Lieutenant and Ensign Humir she was the only other person on-board and the moment the brakes were locked she hurried to un-strap herself from her seat. While she would not admit to being anxious T'Alora did catch herself rocking on the balls of her feet while waiting for the all-clear so she could disembark.

The Lieutenant stepped off first. "Captain." She gave a smart salute as the ensign did the same. "We encountered no difficulties or turbulence of any kind, and all supplies and personnel are present and accounted for, Sir. "

She stepped out just in time to see her uncle imitate her sa-mekh's eyebrow lift. "All?"

"Yes, Captain," T'Alora smartly replied, "All."

He instantly grinned. "Get over here you!"

Despite her rapidly beating heart she strode forward at a leisurely pace only to be squeezed tight as he encircled her in his arms. "We missed you!" She had missed him as well; despite this fact it did not escape her notice that Uncle Jim alone had been waiting for her in the shuttle bay. As he let her go he said, "I'm sorry, I know you're looking for your folks but they couldn't get away. We're short-staffed due to repairs and they're both on-duty so I told them I'd come and collect you."

Although she was happy to be home T'Alora still acknowledged a small measure of disappointment at this unwelcome news. The familial bond grew stronger as the distance closed between them but it was nothing compared to actually seeing them. She knew, however, that she would see her parents soon enough once they were off-shift and so quashed all negative feelings and instead chose to focus on her uncle. The duffle she had brought home with her for the month was well-stocked but he hefted it up on his shoulder without complaint and headed toward the hall.

"Uncle Jim, I know the way to my family's quarters and do not require an escort. If the ship is as short-staffed as you previously stated then you will want to return to the Bridge as swiftly as possible."

His eyes twinkled as he smiled. "I know you don't need an 'escort' and I _do _need to get back to work but I want to spend a little time with you! You think your mother or father will want to let you go once they get their hands on you? This way I get me a little T time!"

His illogical, child-like talk had her rolling her eyes but inwardly she was grinning away. This was exactly the type of interaction she had missed and feared she would not find upon her homecoming. They chatted on like this as they traveled the length of the ship, with him asking her about her classes and friends while she inquired after his family and the status of the ship and the crew. Before they knew it they had reached the senior officer's housing deck and stood before her door.

"Well, guess it's time for me to shove off." He leaned in and gave her a chaste little peck on the cheek. "Again, welcome home. This place just wasn't the same without you." Turning around and he stepped off toward the turbo lift.

"Uncle Jim?"

"Yes?" He spun around, eyes bright.

"Perhaps, if our schedules allow, we could play a game of chess sometime while I am home."

Now she knew for certain that he had been spending too much time with Samekh as the lone eyebrow rose again in suspicion. "I thought you didn't care for the game?"

She gifted him the faintest of smiles. "I have since reconsidered my previous position. Telnor has taught me to appreciate the many challenges that a well-played match present."

"Telnor? T'Alora, is this your way of telling me you have a _boyfriend_?"

If not for her careful control she would have laughed right in his face; instead she leveled him with an eyebrow raise of her own. "Not that it is any of your business who I choose to associate myself with or how but no, Telnor is not a romantic partner. He is 289 years old according to the Terran calendar and a respected professor and advisor."

"Oh." She would have to remember to tap into the security feeds later for a holo of his expression; it was, as her mother often said, priceless. Thoughts of the promised game quickly brought him out of his funk. "Chess sounds great. Come by whenever you're free. Taline and the kids'll be happy to see you too." With a shy smile and a wave he was off, leaving her facing the front door of her family's quarters alone.

She prepared herself to enter and be met by silence and was not disappointed; only the hum of the ship's engines beneath her feet greeted her ears. Very little about their quarters appeared to have changed in her absence save for the homemade 'Welcome Home' banner strung up near the viewport. T'Alora did note that the old maroon armchair was gone and replaced by a newer, larger, navy one; the accompanying end table had also been turned on an angle to accommodate it. She wondered what had happened to the old piece of furniture and why no one had informed her that it had been replaced; however, it was almost as aesthetically pleasing as the previous chair and she decided to test out it's functionality once she was through unpacking.

For the next thirty-five minutes she busied herself with setting her room to rights. While she had not expected her bedroom to be kept as a shrine neither had she expected it to be used under the myriad number of circumstances that it had been. There were two full packing crates sitting in the middle of the room crammed with various sentimental mementos to be sent to the house in San Francisco for safekeeping. A handful of Mama's skin care products and cosmetics were strewn atop the bureau and some of her dresses were stocked in the closet; Se'tak too had utilized the extra closet space and planted a large portion of his wardrobe there. Selas used her window seat in her absence as she found the pillows re-positioned to suit his smaller frame and a pile of Braille PADDs stacked within easy reach.

Even Sa-mekh, who was efficient and compartmentalized in all things, had moved his spare asenoi and mat into the far corner.

Was it wrong of her family to utilize her space in her absence? No, it was not-on the contrary, she understood keenly how precious space on-board a vessel such as theirs could be. Did it upset her that the four of them had encroached on her territory without her permission and were inconsiderate enough to leave their personal items in her space despite her eminent homecoming? Absolutely. The family's spread of stuff in her room also added to that niggling worry that she would feel further out of touch with them given her prolonged absence.

One hour turned into two and then stretched into three. By now she was unpacked and settled and sitting in the new armchair casually reading from a PADD. The front door opened and with the gush of cool air from the hallway came Sa-mekh, Mama, Se'tak and Selas, the latter three excitedly talking over one another.

"But Mama…"

"No means no, Se'tak! How many times are you going to ask me before you get that through your head?"

It was then that Selas jumped in. "In my brother's defense his plan is rather well thought out and sound. The extra infusion of funds would in no way be wasted…"

"Oh great, you've gone and dragged your brother into this too!"

Se'tak turned to face Selas. "What do you mean 'rather well thought out'? Of course it's well thought out because _I thought of it_!"

"You're not getting 500 credits for your experiment!" Mama continued. "Now all I want to do is get home and have a nice, quiet, family dinner with your sister. Is that too much to ask?"

During the exchange she rose from the armchair and Sa-mekh came to stand beside her, sharing their amusement through the familial bond. "It is pleasing to have you home again," he exclaimed, a sense of contentment now weaving in to the link.

She flashed a small smile. "It is pleasing to be home."

As the disagreement between Mama and the boys carried on without either of them becoming aware of their environment T'Alora finally asked, "What experiment does Se'tak wish to carry out that requires 500 credits?"

This time Sa-mekh smiled. "Your brother wishes to improve upon a device that would detect the presence and strength of pheromones without the need for a blood sample."

Her surprise jumped across the bond like electricity. "That project is truly ambitious."

She thought over all the applications such a successful device could produce and was about to ask why they were begrudging Se'tak the credits when he stated, "It would be an auspicious enterprise if your brother were acting out of noble intentions; however, he is not. We recently ferried a group of Orion ambassadors from Starbase 42 to their homeworld and Se'tak became enamored with one of the younger hand maidens in the party named Meruka. He now seeks to create this device so that if he encounters her again he may detect if her attentions toward him are genuine or if he is merely being used as 'target practice', since he is not full Vulcan and therefore more susceptible to hormonal manipulation. Your mother and I are in agreement that in this case the 500 credits would not be money well spent."

T'Alora was struck speechless for several seconds at the very idea that her 14 year old brother was interested in the opposite sex, let alone that a member of the opposite sex would be interested in him. Again as if reading her thoughts he added, "Your mother was also most intrigued by this turn of affairs and was able to procure a holo-image of the pair. Perhaps if you are interested she will allow you to view it."

A shrill cry of "T!" rang out just before she was crushed by a hug from her mother. "How long have you just been standing there?"

"Since we entered 2.78 minutes ago, Mama," Selas evenly replied. He too stepped forward for a hug. "I am glad to have you home. Se'tak has proven difficult to manage alone."

"Hey! I'm right here!" he exclaimed, giving her a friendly punch in the upper arm.

She glared at him briefly and rubbed at the spot near her shoulder before turning back to Selas. "Agreed. Fortunately for you I possess 3.91 more years of experience in dealing with him than you do."

"Again, you guys, I'm _right here_!"

Before the bickering could escalate Mama led her off down the hall, peppering her with questions all the way; but it was in those initial moments when they first returned to their quarters that all her fears were laid to rest and she knew she was well and truly home.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Hello all! I'm going away for the weekend so I thought I'd post early. I also wanted to let you know that this is one of my favorite chapters so far (and I've got 24 of them done as of today, just to put things in perspective for you) and I hope you like it too. Enjoy and see you back here next week!

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><p><strong>Illogical<strong>

_** Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.73, 1525 hours. **Professors were scattered amongst the tables in the teacher's lounge, many sitting by themselves reading or working as they enjoyed a hot mug of tea—but it was the two men in the corner that secretly captured their attention.

"It is an inefficient and illogical use of Academy funds and teachers' time to adopt such primitive methods for the sake of students who do not possess enough intellect to warrant being here."

The memorandum he spoke of had just been sent out that morning demanding that all instructors now set up established office hours for students should they require extra one-on-one tutelage. "Stivlen, I disagree. The increased diversity of our campus population has improved the academic excellence of this institution and has not detracted from it. Furthermore, Surak taught us…"

"I am familiar with the works of Surak; I have had them memorized since I was 5.88 years old. However, this…" here Stivlen gestured toward the window overlooking the bustling quadrangle "…diversity is not doing our people any favors. Surak spoke theoretically; he was not tasked with rebuilding our race nor was he witness to the destruction and loss on a scale such as we have been. If our people and our culture are to survive we must adhere to the Vulcan way and not to the ways of these outsiders. We cannot afford to pollute the gene pool or the minds of New Vulcan's future."

When his colleague offered no response he continued on. "I have six sons, Calnek, ranging in age from twenty standard years to three, all of pure Vulcan blood; and yet not one of them has a mate waiting for him when his time comes. Though their mother and I did our due diligence in seeking out suitable candidates our offers were consistently rejected by each and every clan. And do you know why that was, Calnek? Do you know why my sons will perish in the Fires?"

"Your children are young, there is time yet for them to find mates. I do not believe they will die…"

"They will die and it is because the other clans are abandoning our traditions. They wish to see our sons suffer so that their daughters may choose their own mates, whether they be from within or without our own species," he fairly shouted.

"Stivlen, calm yourself."

"I cannot calm myself when I have witnessed firsthand how much of our society is damaged by interbreeding. Vulcans mating with Orions, Vulcans mating with Ruratarians and, worst of all, Vulcans mating with _Humans_. By bringing outsiders in to our universities we are only inviting more such mixed joinings. What next, Vulcans mating with Romulans?"

"I will admit that I do not see such a joining coming to pass, however, in my experience I have found that the offspring of the pairings you previously mentioned to be highly intelligent and have much to contribute to both cultures. I do not…"

"Oh yes, Calnek, I see that you view these outsiders in the same light as the rest of the Science Academy Council. However, I also recall that you did not think 42.59 years ago as you do now."

The tips of Calnek's ears turned emerald and his mug, which he had been about to drink from, was slammed down hard on the tabletop. "Our conduct during that time was unbecoming and disrespectful and I regret my part in those actions. Spock had done nothing to provoke such mistreatment and has since proven to be a formidable asset to the Vulcan people."

"You speak of regret," Stivlen said lightly. "What a very human sentiment."

One eyebrow rose sharply. "You do not agree that we were wrong to treat him thus?"

"I have not agreed with anything you have said all afternoon. Spock was and is deficient and weak."

"How can you make such a statement when it was he that saved our people during the Destruction?"

Stivlen sat poised to take a sip of his tea and leveled a gaze at his companion over the rim of his mug. "Had Spock possessed more intelligence and uncovered the Romulan's plot sooner our planet would not have been destroyed; also, were it not for his very existence Vulcan would never have been in any danger." He took a long sip as Calnek openly balked at him. "We saved ourselves that day; any lives that may have been spared because of Spock's hand were purely coincidental."

Calnek gathered his belongings and prepared to leave when his colleague added insult to injury. "As you well know the half-breed has children now, also with a human woman, and one of them is in attendance here at the Academy. The girl is the epitome of everything I have been discussing with you. I have had occasion to interact with her several times in my entry-level warp mechanics class. She struggles with basic concepts and cannot keep up with her coursework, and her contributions to class discussions lack coherent thought that only substantiates her sub-par intelligence. I believe that were it not for her clan's reputation she would not even have been considered as a candidate for admission."

It was then that Telnor's commanding voice rang out across the now silent room.

* * *

><p>He had observed the change in T'Alora's demeanor shortly after the start of the new term. They had renewed their Thursday sessions in earnest and while their games progressed in length and skill the girl herself remained conspicuously quiet. T'Alora was simply too reserved, her posture too stiff and formal, to be considered within normal emotional parameters. She had come a long way in dealing with her emotions since the day they first met yet she still had her tells when something was wrong.<p>

Telnor said nothing of his suspicions but began watching her more closely. He quickly determined that it was her warp mechanics class on Tuesday and Thursday mornings that was the source of her troubles—or, more precisely, her instructor Stivlen—as her mood always soured after his class.

He learned of the depth of her mistreatment secondhand from her fellow students as he took one of his daily walks.

"I don't know how she does it," a young Andorian woman said to her companion as she gestured over to T'Alora. "The way he puts her down in class all the time, asking her about stuff we haven't even studied yet, and then he goes and gives her extra work every time she gets a wrong answer. Professor Stivlen _definitely_ has it in for her."

"No kidding," her human friend agreed. "And us too, by the looks of this assignment. But if it were me he was picking on I'd be up there screaming in his face in a heartbeat; she just puts up with it."

"I don't know why either but there's something fishy going on between them, that's for sure."

"Agreed."

He waited for T'Alora to open up to him and seek help yet she never once spoke about her classroom abuse. Today, however, listening to Stivlen spew his xenophobic dribble in a room full of their colleagues, he found a way to exact revenge and hopefully bring the young woman some peace.

Telnor listened in on the conversation (as he knew the others were also) but rather then watch the men argue he quietly sipped his tea and took close study of a young couple in the quadrangle below. The Vulcan male towered over his petite, human, female companion, and each time they moved his heavy robes billowed about in a way that suggested they would envelope her whole. The young man was also surprisingly open in his affections and took many opportunities to touch her. Why, just now she was leaning against one of the pillars supporting the building opposite, and he reached up to brush back the wisps of wild blond hair that had blown into her face. She was blushing and batting her eyes as his fingertips followed the curve of her ear and the contours of her neck before coming to rest on her slightly exposed shoulder.

"Stivlen."

The man turned around, curious at being called out in the middle of the farce that was a private conversation. "Ha, Osu?"

"It would appear that your concern for your eldest son is unfounded."

His fellow teacher eyeballed him with an expression equivalent to a smug sneer. "Is that correct, Osu Telnor? And what do you know of Stalvek's affairs that I do not?"

"I know nothing," he conceded, not breaking his gaze away from the window. "However, I have observed him these last 30.2 minutes openly engaging in pre-mating behaviors with a human female."

Telnor turned around in time to see Stivlen rise swiftly from his seat, the metal chair scraping loudly across the tile floor, and promptly vacate the premises. Now determined to stay a little longer, Calnek reclaimed his tea and moved to join Telnor at his table. Both watched as their colleague bolted out into the quadrangle and dragged his son away very forcefully by the ear.

"It is a shame that he cannot see past his own prejudices," Calnek coolly remarked. "I too have had the chance to interact with S'chn T'gai T'Alora and have found her to be very intelligent and composed."

"I agree with you on both counts."

Both men finished the rest of their afternoon snack in peaceful silence. On the following Thursday T'Alora arrived at his office with the first ghost of a smile on her face that he had ever seen.


	12. Chapter 12

**Simply A Minor Surgical Procedure**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.92, 2030 hours. **She emerged from the bathroom, hair loose and wet down her back, to find Poleia standing with her bath things in front of the comm. Casey was conspicuously absent (as she had been on several other evenings over the last 5.2 weeks) and they had only just returned from a sparring session in the gymnasium. Poleia was almost as adept at suus mahna as she was and T'Alora enjoyed the opportunity to spar with someone of equal skill.

"T'Alora, your mother is on the comm. line." Poleia nodded at the screen then moved off toward the bathroom.

"It was nice to finally meet you!" Mama called out. When they were alone one eyebrow shot up as she asked, "Not very chatty that one, is she?"

"She does not see the sense in speaking when it is not necessary; it is simply her way. To what do I owe this call?" As she spoke she checked the familial bond and discovered that no one was under any undue stress.

"What, can't a mother call her daughter just because she misses her?"

She was deflecting. "Mama…"

"Ok, there is _something_ I wanted to tell you. Your sa-mekh and I are coming to New Vulcan! We'll be there in about four or five days depending on the shuttle schedules and will likely stay a week. Think you can spare some time from your busy life to visit with us while we're there?"

"Of course. Se'tak and Selas will not be accompanying you?"

"No, not this time. We don't want them missing too much school. They're going to stay with the McCoys while we're gone."

T'Alora felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something _was_ amiss and her mother was purposely misleading her. "What is the true nature of this visit?"

"Your sa-mekh and I miss you…"

"Mama…"

"…and your sa-mekh-al needs a blood transfusion and your sa-mekh is the only viable donor."

Both eyebrows shot up into her hairline. She had seen Sa-mekh-al two evenings ago for dinner and he had not indicated that he required any medical aid at that time. He had, however, remarked that he would be venturing to Healer House for an annual physical—why she had not connected the 'dots' sooner she did not know. "What is the nature of his ailment? Tell me everything."

"T, Honey, see this is why I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to worry. It's just a minor surgical procedure to fix a defect with one of his heart valves. Your sa-mekh-al's been aware that he was at risk for this and has been monitoring the situation closely. The minute he realized he had one of the symptoms he went to see the healer and they advised that he have the problem fixed sooner rather then later. We're coming so your sa-mekh can bank plenty of blood _should_ he need it but it's likely just a precautionary measure."

She said nothing as she absorbed the news. Her sa-mekh-al would be turning 115 years old this year, barely hitting middle-age in terms of Vulcan lifespans; but her lo'uk ko-mekh-il, T'Pau, had passed away rather prematurely at the age of 212 so anything was possible. Had Sa-mekh-al inherited his heart defect from his ko-mekh? Was Sa-mekh also at risk? What about her and her brothers, were they at risk too? "Are you certain that Sa-mekh-al is not in imminent danger of heart failure?"

Mama smiled, but it was her tight smile, usually reserved for bearing bad news. "Absolutely! T'Alora, he's perfectly fine, I promise."

"If he were perfectly fine he would not be in need of a healer; however, I will take your previous statement to mean that he is not in imminent danger. What about Sa-mekh, Se'tak, Selas and myself? Are we also at risk of suffering the effects of this defect in our futures?"

"Oh Sweetie." Mama's eyes glimmered in the light. "No, you're not. You four didn't inherit the defect, we've checked. You're all perfectly fine."

She nodded. "Who is Sa-mekh-al's healer and what stardate is the procedure scheduled for?"

"He's being treated by Healer T'Lauris and they're waiting for us to get there before setting a date. It'll likely happen before the end of next month."

"Understood." She took a deep breath to try and center herself then looked away from the screen, her mind going a million miles a minute as she calculated the odds and considered alternative scenarios to the one just now presented to her. Would Sa-mekh-al's surgery be a success? How many times had the Healer utilized this procedure? What if Sa-mekh-al's condition worsened prior to treatment? What if he had been mis-diagnosed? What other options were available to treat his condition…?

Her mother's voice called her back. "T?" She looked back her way. "Look, you can deny that you're worried all you want but I know you are. Everything's going to be alright, I promise. If you don't trust me then why don't you call your sa-mekh-al up or go over and see him for yourself? It'll help put your mind at ease if you do."

For the briefest second T'Alora allowed her fear to surface and her eyes pooled with unshed tears. She was unprepared to lose Sa-mekh-al but she also trusted her mother. While this was a serious health matter it was not necessarily life threatening. "That will not be necessary," she replied, rubbing at her eyes. "When you have finalized all travel arrangements send along your itinerary so that I may meet you at the shuttleport."

"You don't have to do that, we'll just catch a cab…" Mama cut her refusal off mid-stream as their eyes met; no, T'Alora did not have to meet them—but she _wanted_ to. She needed to. "Ok. We'll see you then."


	13. Chapter 13

**Full Disclosure**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.101, 1902 hours. **She had spent every spare moment of the first three days of her parent's visit with Mama, Sa-mekh and Sa-mekh-al, traveling between Sa-mekh-al's house and the Medical Center. Once she was assured that her sa-mekh-al was in good health and that these measures were in fact precautionary, T'Alora resumed her normal schedule.

Which was why she was caught completely unawares by the scene before her in her dorm room that evening.

"It's nice to meet you after all these years."

"You too," Casey meekly replied.

Sa-mekh stood on the opposite side of the room observing them both. "Fascinating; the odds of this reunion occurring under these circumstances are one in..."

Now T'Alora was well and truly confused by what she was seeing. "Mama? Sa-mekh?"

"T?" Casey pulled away from Mama's shoulder, her face red and splotchy, frantically wiping her eyes. "I can explain."

"T'Alora," Mama replied with a sad little smile on her face, "We wanted to surprise you and take you out to dinner at that pizzeria you're always telling us about but Casey here said you were still in class so we decided to stay and wait."

Next she looked to Sa-mekh. "That is correct."

She turned back to her mother. "You just stated that it was 'nice to meet Casey after all these years'; however, I have only known her for 7.68 months. Prior to our meeting here at the Academy you and Sa-mekh were unaware of her existence."

Casey having regained some of her composure, said, "That's not entirely true."

"It is not?" One eyebrow rose.

"No, it isn't." Wordlessly her roommate rose from the bed and crossed over to her desk, rummaging around in the top drawer until she found a very well-worn holo-frame. Calling up the image she handed it to T'Alora. A tall, bald, broad-chested man grinned away, his arm draped over the shoulders of a willowy woman with long, strawberry-blond tresses and an equally large smile on her face. Before Casey could explain T'Alora knew that these people were her parents; she saw it as her friend had her father's eyes and her mother's smile. "These are my folks, John and Meg. Mom taught second grade at Kimpton Elementary and Dad was the freighter captain of the _Arturius_; he worked for Bennett Intergalactic Imports/Exports. They died when I was 12."

Although she knew there had to have been a logical reason for Casey to live with her aunt she had not expected it to be because she was an orphan. T'Alora carefully handed the treasured image back. "I grieve with thee."

"Thanks." Casey looked down and traced the pattern on her mother's dress with her finger. "That Spring my Dad had a haul headed to Risa that coincided with the March school vacation. He decided it was a good opportunity to take Mom on a second honeymoon and so asked her to come with him. She wasn't sure about leaving us—Emily was almost 16 at the time and I'd only just turned 12—but Aunt Jill said she'd stay and look after us no problem. Once that was resolved Mom couldn't wait to go."

Here her friend paused and took a deep steadying breath, one tear escaping and rolling down her cheek onto the picture. "There's a lot I don't remember about my parents—stupid things like what their favorite colors were or how they liked their coffee—but one thing I know is that they loved each other. They loved each other a lot."

Despite never having met Mr. and Mrs. Morton personally T'Alora was inclined to agree with that assessment.

"The first two days out were fine. They comm'ed us together the first day and then Mom alone comm'ed on the second, just letting us know things were going great and that they couldn't wait to get to where it was warm. When the third day came and went with no call we were worried but tried not to think about it too much; we thought maybe the communications array was down or something and that they'd comm. us when they could.

"On the fourth day Aunt Jill called the company but all they could tell us was that the _Arturius _wasn't answering their hails either. They had other freighters in the fleet looking for her but at that point they hadn't turned up anything and said they'd contact us when they had any news.

"Then the fifth day and the sixth day went by with nothing. None of us said anything but we knew it was bad, we just didn't know how bad. I kept picturing all these terrible scenarios but never in a million years did I think they were dead. It was on the eighth day that we got the news. The _Arturius _had been found way off the beaten track in a corner of the Beta Qaudrant and it looked like it'd taken heavy fire. When they boarded her they discovered that everyone on-board was…gone."

Even talking about it now, six years after the event, made the color drain from Casey's face. T'Alora could sympathize with her, if only marginally. They had lost Mama once—or so they thought—and those nine days without her were the closest she had ever come to living in Terra's mythological Hell; but in the end they had gotten Mama back. Her friend had not been so 'lucky'.

"It…" Casey stuttered and sobbed, then reached for a nearby tissue. "It took a week for us to get the bodies back. Aunt Jill was busy planning the funerals and figuring out what we were going to do and Em and I…well, we were just lost. Looking back I think I was just numb, like I didn't really believe it was happening. Part of me kept hoping my folks would walk through the doors and go 'Oops, it was all a mistake!' but that never happened. It wasn't until after the funeral that things went from bad to worse.

"Em couldn't believe it—same as me—but instead of wallowing she went looking for answers. She learned that Klingon pirates were responsible for the attack on Dad's ship and she got angry—really, really angry. Two days after the funeral Emily left home early in the morning and came back late at night wearing cadet reds. My aunt was furious but there was nothing she could do; Em had enlisted of her own free will. They argued for what felt like forever and that's how I found out how Mom and Dad were murdered."

Casey turned her large, sorrowful green eyes up at her. "You know me, T—I'm a happy person, right? Well that night I wanted to kill myself and I almost did; the only thing that stopped me was a message from your mom."

Shocked by this admission T'Alora could only watch in stunned silence while Casey reached for a PADD and pulled up a record from her personal files. Turning it to her she saw a younger-looking Mama staring anxiously at the screen from their office on-board the _Enterprise_.

"Hello," Mama began in the recorded message. "We've never met but I'm Lieutenant Commander Uhura, Chief Communications Officer aboard the _Enterprise_. I'm the one that picked up Meghan Morton's distress signal from the _Arturius_." T'Alora barely stifled her shock then looked to her mother who nodded in confirmation, her own eyes welling up with unshed tears. "First, I want you to know how sorry I am for your loss. What you and your family are going through right now is unimaginable and while I'm sure you have plenty of people nearby to help you you should know that you're never alone, no matter what. Secondly, I wanted to be the one to tell you about a message that was piggy-backed onto the original S.O.S. and that I know was meant for you."

Here the version of her mother on-screen paused to take a deep breath and her hand trembled as she reached up to brush back her hair. She looked so impossibly sad. "There wasn't a lot of time, but she wanted to make sure that this got passed along. She said, and I quote, 'Tell Cherry and Bean how much we love them'." Mama reached for a glass of water off-camera as tears slid down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, but the transmission was cut off after that. I hope that knowing that her last thoughts were of you brings you more comfort instead of hurt during this difficult time."

The transmission ended after that and T'Alora could feel a lump form in the back of her throat when Casey next spoke.

"As you've probably figured out the _Enterprise_ was the first ship on the scene thanks to your mom catching that transmission; and I knew she didn't make up that message because no one outside the family knew that Em's nickname was Cherry or mine was Bean. If I took all those pills like I'd planned then I'd just be letting my parents down and letting the Klingons win so I put them away. The next morning everything still hurt like hell but I still got out of bed."

T'Alora searched for the right thing to say. She always knew that her family and friends aboard the _Enterprise_ were a special group of people and that their actions impacted thousands of lives, but she never had any idea that Casey's life had been one of them.

"Casey, I was unaware of the depth of your suffering. You have never let on that you have experienced such sorrow."

The young girl shrugged. "I know. That's because I choose to live each day after that awful one happy—it's what Mom and Dad would've wanted and it's what led me here."

She nodded. "I understand the logic behind that sentiment."

"You know," Mama chimed in from her seat on the bed, still looking misty-eyed, "I always think of you and your sister every March 23rd." Casey smiled over at her gratefully as she brushed away the tears. "You said that she joined Starfleet; what ship is she serving on now?"

"She's serving under Captain Sulu aboard the _Discovery _and works in Security. Aunt Jill worries about her all the time and still isn't happy about her decision and while I think Em originally joined Starfleet for all the wrong reasons I think she's really happy there."

Sa-mekh agreed. "Your aunt should 'rest easy' knowing that your sister is in the hands of one of the most capable captains in Starfleet."

She chuckled. "I'll be sure and tell her you said so, Sir, though I doubt it'll help her much."

It was then that T'Alora asked, "Casey, would you like to continue this reunion by joining us for dinner?"

Before her friend could protest Mama cried, "Oh yes, please come! I want to hear all about how you ended up here at the VSA studying xenolinguistics. T'Alora tells us that you're very talented and maybe I can try and recruit you over to the dark side." She winked at that and they both laughed as Sa-mekh chimed in that he too would like to hear more of her story.

"Well alright," she replied still laughing, "But only because you insist." Casey got up and went to the bathroom to splash some water on her face before accompanying them to the pizza parlor. The four of them spent the next several hours there so deep in discussion that they did not leave the pizzeria until Ben threatened to close up shop with them still inside.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **This is one of my favorite chapters in this story so far. I hope you like it too (and if you do then feel free to leave a review!).

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><p><strong>The Dance<strong>

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.126, 0007 hours.** The three weary girls trudged through the door with their heels in hand, looking dazed and slightly disheveled in their best evening wear. Even Casey was quiet and had a far-off look in her eye.

Poleia sank down on the edge of her bed. "That was a most interesting evening."

T'Alora stood before the bureau pulling pins out of her hair, glancing at her roommate's reflection in the glass. "Agreed."

* * *

><p><strong>Two weeks earlier…<strong> "So the faculty have _finally_ taken our opinions into consideration and agreed to let the Student Diversity Council host an event before the end of term to help students release some stress before finals," Casey excitedly announced the moment everyone finished eating. Max, Poleia, T'Alora, Magras, T'Mera and Woral all looked at her expectantly as to what that event might be. Finally Max prodded her on.

"And…?"

"And we've decided to host a dance!" she squealed with delight.

The only other person who looked pleased by this prospect was Magras. "Great!" he exclaimed, downing the last of his fruit drink. "Maybe then I'll get laid."

"You get laid plenty," his roommate quipped. "I see you with a different girl two or three times a week."

Magras let out a melancholy sigh. "I know," he replied, "My numbers are abysmal."

Max groaned and rolled his eyes. "Orions."

Off to the side T'Mera quietly conferred with Poleia, the older girl nodding her head. "I too am perplexed," she agreed.

Casey leaned in. "What is it you guys don't understand?"

Woral chimed in. "We are unfamiliar with the concept of a dance."

"Seriously?" Magras leapt up from the table before anyone else could respond. "Oh man, dancing is just…it's…I mean…" as he struggled to find the right words a curvy, red-headed, upper class student walked by bearing an empty tray. Catching her by the wrist he spun his unsuspecting partner around before catching and dipping her low to the floor. She stared up at him breathlessly and all Magras had to do was wink and flash his usual charming grin before pulling her back up to her feet. Grinding against her backside the two began writhing in time to a song only they could hear.

"Dancing is fully-clothed public intercourse?"

"Kind of," Max said with a shrug.

"No!" Casey and T'Alora cried in unison. Being slightly more composed then her roommate T'Alora answered more fully, "Dancing utilizes movement set to music in a physical form of creative expression and a dance is an event to display these techniques in a public forum. Magras' style of dancing…" here she looked up in time to see him whisper in the girl's ear before leading her giggling toward the exit, "is much more suggestive then others."

Woral turned to T'Mera as an unspoken communication passed between the young couple. Suddenly she asked, "Are there specific types of dances that we will be required to learn in order to participate?"

"No," Casey replied. "You don't need to learn anything; it's not another test you have to pass! The dance is supposed to be fun, just a chance to blow off some steam. We want to try and incorporate music from all the different cultures represented here on campus and don't expect everyone to know the dances to all of them; that would be impossible!"

Knowing that that answer would be insufficient for their needs T'Alora quietly added, "There are, however, tutorial vids available for download should you still find yourself in need of instruction."

Woral and T'Mera nodded there thanks then rose to depart, likely anxious to study and practice for their first dance. This left Max, Poleia and T'Alora with Casey at the once crowded table. The blond shot them all very pointed looks. "We're going to need some extra help getting the decorations and music together…"

"I'll help!" Max cried.

Poleia looked as if she would rather do anything but participate until T'Alora kicked her under the table. Suppressing a sigh she replied, "We will also assist you in-between our studies."

"Great!"

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><p><em><strong>Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2280.125, 1850 hours. **"Are you guys almost ready? The dance is going to start soon!"

From beyond the bathroom doors the girls shared a knowing look over Casey's whine. "We cannot hold her off indefinitely," Poleia replied as she smoothed down the front of her dress.

"Agreed." T'Alora checked her make-up a final time before exiting the bathroom with Poleia on her heels. Casey pounced before they had fully entered the bedroom.

"You look amazing!" she cried, circling them. "I love your robes! Are they new? I've never seen them before."

"They are the formal robes of our clan," T'Alora swiftly replied, "And until now we have not had occasion to wear them."

"Well then we need to start having more occasions for you to do so. Poleia that shade of sage green is just perfect on you! And T you should wear more purple like that, it suits you."

Poleia nodded her thanks while admiring Casey's dress. She wore a light, white shawl over a bubble gum pink dress that ended just above her knees; wholly inappropriate attire for a Vulcan but very modest and appropriate for a human. "You too look aesthetically pleasing this evening."

"Thanks! I wore this to my high school graduation—I'm lucky I even remembered to pack it with me 'cause I don't think I would've found anything here small enough to fit! Well, shall we go?" Before either could answer she palmed the door pad and stepped into the hall. Steeling themselves as if to do battle the two Vulcan women followed after her at a more sedate pace.

They entered the quadrangle five minutes later from the east side to find it transformed. Syllerian fire lights floated along the perimeter and yellow Terran paper streamers were twisted and hung around the cement pillars of the surrounding buildings. A raised dais had been brought in and several students were seen hovering over it setting up the music equipment while on the southern end of the courtyard stood a refreshment stand.

"It would appear that everything is in place," Poleia observed.

"Yes," Casey replied as she wrung her hands together nervously, "Let's just hope more people show up."

* * *

><p><strong>1940 hours.<strong> They quickly learned that Casey need not have worried about attendance. Those Vulcans who were curious about the event were prompt in their arrival while many others from the school trickled in in a steady stream within the first half hour. The dance had so far drawn quite a crowd and although the music had a good beat there were few brave enough to step out onto the floor and dance; most preferred to keep along the edges and form small groups for conversation.

Suddenly Max sidled up to the group with a cup of orange punch in hand. "This reminds me of middle school: girls staring at boys, boys staring at girls, everybody just standing around staring at each other. It's depressing." He took a sip and looked across the dance floor, a couple there catching his eye. "And what's up with Woral and T'Mera? They look like they're about to face a firing squad for stealing state secrets or something." When no one made any reply he sighed and set his empty cup down on the table before going still, struck as he was by an idea. Grabbing Casey by the wrist despite her squeak of protest he dragged her up with him to the music platform.

"Finally!" Magras declared good naturedly. "It's about time! If he didn't put the moves on her tonight then I would've just to knock some sense into him!"

T'Alora's eyebrow rose at her friend's strange statement. "I do not follow your meaning."

Magras gestured to the two who were now making their way to the middle of the dance floor. "He's carried a torch for her since practically day one! I've been telling him to go for it but he always—Gah! What's the name for that blasted Terran animal he always compares himself to? The one on two legs with a beak like a wallunka…"

"Chicken," she informed him.

"Yes, that's it, chicken! He always chickens out!" Nudging her in the shoulder he added, "I began to fear for the state of his manhood, if you know my meaning. He hasn't gotten—"

"We know your meaning," Poleia interjected.

Before T'Alora could inquire as to the depth of Max's interest in her friend a piece of music with a much livelier beat came on, attracting everyone's attention. T'Alora recognized it as Terran in origin and likely from the early twentieth century Jazz era that her Uncle Leonard was so fond of. Max took a deep breath and smiled while Casey looked around at the crowd in a mounting panic.

"Just follow my lead!" Max snapped his fingers then spun her about so her skirt fanned out around her. Poor Casey did not even have a chance to catch her breath as he led her in a lively dance involving all manner of acrobatic tricks. He flipped her over his arm, swung her around and set her on the ground before pulling her out from between his legs.

Yet soon they were not the only pair catching everyone's eye out on the dance floor.

As unobtrusively as possible Woral and T'Mera took up dancing in the corner and matched Max and Casey step for step, even going so far as to incorporate a few moves of their own. All the Vulcans silently gawked while everyone else began to hoot and holler in encouragement, a few of them feeling so emboldened as to try and join (albeit with less success) until the song ended.

Both couples exited the dance floor amidst much applause and while T'Mera and Woral shunned such praise Casey stormed off to try and get away from her partner. T'Alora and Poleia quickly caught up with her to help ease her distress. "I can't believe he did that to me!" she sobbed. "I was terrified and he just kept flipping me over—I thought I was going to be sick!"

Behind them they heard Max trying to reach them only to be stopped by Magras. "Man, I didn't even know you could move like that! That was awesome! Where did you learn and do you think you could teach me?"

"My grandmother ran a dance school, and maybe some other time. Casey! Casey, I'm sorry, I thought you'd like it!"

She wheeled about on him looking ready to strike while Poleia and T'Alora took up her flank. "You didn't give a damn about what I would or wouldn't like, you were just trying to show off!" She tried to walk away when he reached for her wrist again. "_DON'T _you touch me!" Casey stalked off to the other side of the quad.

"I wasn't trying to show off to anyone," he meekly replied to her trailing form. "I just wanted to impress you."

Magras came up behind him and clasped a commiserating hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps a bold first move wasn't the right approach," he said with a shrug. "Sorry."

Max sat down along the low wall and hung his head in his hands and groaned. "This is _just_ like middle school…"

* * *

><p><strong>2022 hours.<strong> "Good evening, T'Alora."

She turned at the sound of his voice and nodded. "Good evening, Osu Telnor. What brings you to this section of campus this evening?"

His eyes flickered over to the middle of the quadrangle. "The dance, of course. I have never had occasion to witness one first hand." T'Alora did not tell him that she had, several times, while on-board the _Enterprise_ or that those events were much more raucous then the one before them. "Have you visited the dance floor yet?"

She nodded. Nearly everyone in attendance was curious about the affair and the many Vulcans present were quick to realize the physical benefits such an activity presented. It would be illogical of her not to partake.

"Are you here unescorted this evening, T'Alora?"

"I am."

"Then perhaps you would indulge my curiosity and permit me the opportunity to escort you out onto the floor for a dance? I am most intrigued by the eclectic array of music being performed as well as the movements that are accompanying them."

It took all she had to suppress a full-blown smile. Telnor was a scientist and a gentleman. "You honor me with your request."

He proved to be a capable dancer as well.

* * *

><p><strong>2138 hours.<strong> The young woman's voice conveyed her annoyance well across the entire quadrangle—which was especially surprising once T'Alora determined it was T'Mera doing the speaking.

"I do not wish to depart!"

Woral stopped short, swaying a little on his feet but keeping his eyes locked on his ko-kugalsu*. As far as she knew the pair had been the talk of the evening with their newly acquired dance skills and no problems had arisen between them until after their visit to the refreshment table.

"You are ill and are not thinking clearly. It would be best to return to the dormitory…"

"I said I do not wish to depart!" Turning her back on him T'Mera made it four steps away before also stopping short. Her face quickly went green and she put a hand to her mouth before running to the nearest trash receptacle.

Casey and T'Alora both made their way over to help hold back her hair. "T'Mera, honey, what happened?"

Woral walked slowly and stood shakily beside the container looking green as well. "I believe it is something she ingested," he announced, "For I am feeling the ill effects of it as well." He looked to be on the verge of passing out and so T'Alora made him sit down and put his head between his knees.

When she had dispelled the contents of her stomach T'Mera slowly lifted her head up from the trash bin. "I was thirsty and drank the white savas-masu*. It had a different taste from the drink of my home yet it was still quite pleasing. I had four cups."

Seeing that both of them were beginning to improve (even if only marginally) T'Alora went over to investigate. She ladled out a small sip of the drink and sniffed it. No sooner had it reached her nostrils then she discovered the root cause of their affliction and she quickly removed the bowl from the table.

"This beverage has been infused with melted white chocolate. Given T'Mera's small stature, her genetic intolerance and the amount she has consumed it's alcoholic properties have made themselves manifest very quickly." Addressing Woral, who was now back on his feet looking ready for a fight, she added, "She should visit a Healer and acquire a hangover hypo to be administered along with plenty of water and rest. Follow these instructions and she should be well by morning."

Woral nodded, his protective instincts taking control, and gingerly scooped T'Mera into his arms. "Your assistance is much appreciated," he said before turning and leaving.

When they were gone T'Alora proceeded to dump the remnants of the spiked punch into the trash receptacle, causing Casey to sigh. "I feel bad that T'Mera got sick but all I can think of is what a waste of perfectly good chocolate."

* * *

><p><strong>2216 hours.<strong> T'Alora closed her eyes and allowed her body to sway to the beat. 'Dalfud' as sung by Nicorina Sarcosa was one of her absolute favorite pieces of music. As she danced she was unaware of the large man moving in behind her.

"It should be illegal to move like that," the stranger whispered in her ear. Setting his hands firmly on her hips he added, "Why don't you come back with me to my place and show me how it's done?"

Disgusted at the very lewd idea she elbowed her 'partner' hard in the ribs before spinning around ready to clock him in the jaw; only recognition stilled her hand. "Magras?"

"T'Alora?" he wheezed, holding his rib. "What in the name of the Mother Priestess…I didn't know it was you, I swear!"

"How could you not know it was me? And where have you been all evening? I have not seen you for 2.3 hours."

By now he had the good sense to take a large step back from her while his cheeks blushed purple. "Well, you know, there's a lot of people around and I've…well I've been busy…" Her infamous eyebrow rose into her hairline at his flimsy explanation. "With other girls," he mumbled under his breath.

Taking a good look at him now T'Alora noted the glazed over expression on his face and the fine sheen of sweat on his arms. "How many?" she inquired.

Magras' head dropped even lower. "Six."

"So then I was to become conquest number seven?"

"Well when you put it like that…" but the thought trailed off as he finally looked her in the eyes and recovered some of his previous bravado. "You still could be, if you wanted to. I hear Terrans consider the number seven to be quite a lucky number, pun intended, ha ha ha."

T'Alora stared at him for a further 28.4 seconds until her friend remembered himself. "I am certain that you do not fully mean the explicit offer you are attempting to make and that it would be best if we parted company so that you may inquire of other partners."

Without warning he grabbed her up in a bone-crushing hug. "Mother Priestess I hope there's more! This has been the best night of the entire school year! I hope they repeat this next year…they better or I might not come back! Ok, thanks T, no hard feelings, right?" She nodded, still trying to catch her breath as he set her back down on her feet. "But for what it's worth you did look incredibly sexy dancing like that. You should do it more often; it suits you!"

Completely astonished she opened her mouth to reply only to find empty space standing before her. As her mother was fond of saying, Magras was gone 'like a bolt out of the blue'.

* * *

><p><strong>2341 hours. <strong>Toward the end of the evening the dance began to wind down, as did the intensity of the music. Her feet sore from her new shoes T'Alora was content to sit and rest in the shadows along the sidelines and observe those around her. Poleia had spent the majority of the evening in debate with friends from her comparative religions course, an activity she found relaxing in her own strange way as it got her out of the library and interacting with other students. Glancing around she spied Casey standing a short ways away, alone and swaying to the music. Her friend had been quick to recover from her earlier fit of pique and had spent much of the night out on the dance floor (and away from Max) dancing with various groups.

She was about to move and join her when T'Alora noticed another Vulcan sidle up beside Casey and take her in his arms.

"Stalvek!" Casey looked about nervously and T'Alora rose to her feet to come to her aid, only to be stopped by what she heard next. "What are you doing here? I thought we agreed to keep things quiet so your father wouldn't find out! If he hears about you coming here and dancing with me he's going to know!"

"I understand the ramifications of my actions and I do not care; Sa-mekh may declare me V'tosh ka'tur* if he so chooses but I will no longer cow to his will. I have been observing you all evening and it was not agreeable to me to see you dancing with other men. You are mine and I am yours and we belong only to each other."

"Baby, I know…"

"If you would but allow me to declare koon-ut so'lik then these issues would no longer have any relevance…"

Casey scowled. "I already told you that I love you too but I'm not ready to go and get engaged or settle down and I won't be for awhile. I'm only nineteen and you're twenty-one; we have our whole lives ahead of us…"

Instead of hearing her out Stalvek cut her off mid-stream with a very public and very human kiss. "However, I have decided that I will wait as long as is necessary to make you my adun'a, even if it means my life."

She stared up at him in astonishment. "Your life? But why would…"

This time he spun her out toward the center of the dance floor and out of her range of hearing. It was clear to T'Alora that while Casey had her misgivings about a marriage to Stalvek none of her concerns stemmed from any knowledge of Pon Farr. If their relationship progressed in the logical manner and he did not apprise her of the biological imperative beforehand it would fall to her to warn Casey about the Fires. She would just have to keep an eye out on their budding secret romance for the foreseeable future.

* * *

><p><strong>2280.126, 0008 hours. <strong>"Tonight was _perfect_," Casey sighed dreamily as she sank down onto her bed.

"Your definition of perfection is flawed," Poleia responded, "As it connotes that the evening was beyond improvement. Indeed I found many areas of the dance that could be ameliorated should the event be held again in the future, as you have previously stated you are want to do. Also, I believe that the beginning of your evening was marred by Max's rather excessive emotional display."

Casey nodded along bleary eyes as she slipped out of her shoes and crawled under the covers. "It was, initially—but the end of the night more then made up for it. It's a night I'll never forget." She smiled in remembrance as her head hit the pillow. "Good night, girls."

T'Alora and Poleia shared a look as they went about their evening routine. They were unlikely to ever forget the events of the dance either.

* * *

><p>* ko-kugalsu = Vulkhansu, fiancé<p>

* savas-masu = Vulcan fruit juice

*V'tosh ka'tur = Vulkhansu, Vulcan without Logic


	15. Chapter 15

******A/N: **Hi all! This next chapter is a bit short but before we get into it I just wanted to address an issue brought up about the last chapter. I know Vulcans are familiar with the concept of dancing, it was the idea of a dance that I thought might confuse some of the younger crowd; that was what I was going for. Also, I think of Woral, T'Mera and Poleia as growing up (somewhat) in the sticks and not being as familiar with certain ideas as others. Well that's all I wanted to say and I hope you enjoy this update!

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><p><strong>Decisions<strong>

_** Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.138, 1548 hours. **They were nearing the end of term and all three girls sat in the room in various attitudes reviewing their notes for the last of their finals. It was in fact the quietest the dormitory building had ever been since they first moved in and T'Alora could not help but compare it to her family's shore leave in San Francisco when Hurricane Margareta blew in. Every sentient being in the area seemed to tense and still in response to the drop in barometric pressure imminent to the storm making landfall.

Mama had called it the 'calm before the storm'.

"Hey guys?"

T'Alora almost jumped in her seat she was caught so unawares by the sound of Casey's voice. "Yes?"

"So I know it's rather late to be bringing this up, but I was wondering…" her thought trailed off half-finished.

She heard the squeak of Poleia's chair as she turned around. "Yes?" When there was still no response she added, "Casey, while Vulcans possess telepathic abilities they are only made manifest if there is skin-to-skin contact, otherwise we cannot simply read your thoughts which is what you are obviously expecting us to do."

At that their friend burst out in nervous laughter for a full minute. "You cracked a joke! I can't believe it, you have a sense of humor, you really do!"

One eyebrow rose at the declaration. "I do not know what you are talking about. Is this the information you wished to ascertain by interrupting our studies?"

Casey instantly sobered back up. "No, no it's not." She sighed and rolled over on her bed so she was resting on her side. "Look, I know I should've asked this like a month ago and if you've already made other arrangements it's ok and I'll understand; also there'll be no hard feelings if you aren't interested so feel free to say no if you want."

Her curiosity now peaked T'Alora set her PADD down and turned to face the room. "Perhaps if you asked us an actual question instead of trying to predict our responses to a hypothetical one you might then be set at ease on the matter."

She took a deep breath. "You're right. Ok, here goes: have you guys given any thought about what you want to do for your roommate assignments for next year?"

"I had considered various possibilities but none with any seriousness given that I have been preoccupied with focusing on my studies at this time."

Casey made a face as she turned to Poleia. "What about you?"

"I too have considered various scenarios regarding future roommate assignments. Why do you ask?"

She fidgeted with a couple of pills in her comforter before responding. "Well I was wondering if you guys might be interested in rooming together again next semester…with me?"

T'Alora inwardly smirked at Casey's discomfort. She already knew how she was going to respond and there was no reason for her friend to be ill at ease. They both turned to Poleia to await her response.

"I would find that scenario very agreeable."

Casey's eyes popped wide in shock and only past reprimands kept her from leaping out of her chair and hugging her. "Really? You really mean that, Poleia?"

"Unless there is a problem with your auditory pathways then I believe I was clear in my answer the first time."

"Right, right, sorry. What about you, T? Please, please, _please_ say you'll do it-it won't be the same without you!"

T'Alora nodded, working hard to suppress her smile. "Of course. I find it agreeable to room with you both again next semester as well."

"YES!" Casey jumped out of her chair and pumped her fists in the air as she performed her 'Happy Dance'. "YES!" Opening her eyes she spied her two sober-looking roommates and instantly settled back down onto her bed. "Ok…I'll be sure and let the housing office know of our decision in the morning."


	16. Chapter 16

**Remember That Time When…?**

_**U.S.S. Enterprise, **_**2280.197, 1016 hours. **"Shit! Shit, shit, shit! We are in SO much trouble, T!" T'Alora stood at parade rest beside the console and looked over at her companion with pursed lips and an otherwise blank expression on her face, prepared to face what was to come.

* * *

><p><strong>One hour and fifteen minutes earlier.<strong> "Right…" She watched Uncle Scotty mutter to himself as he consulted his PADD and moved down the line. All other personnel had been dispatched to their duties save for herself and Ensign Acosta. She and Paolo were almost always paired off due to their young age and respective ranks and a certain camaraderie had formed between them as a result. "Ahh, here! I'll be needin' the two of ye to test and recalibrate all the platin' around the primary, secondary and tertiary oxygen distributors. If'n you have any questions or come across anything out of the ordinary see me, understand?"

Paolo snapped a smart salute and nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Off ye go now then."

T'Alora climbed down to the platform below, the red and black coveralls issued to her by the quartermaster one month ago still chafing her at the neck and wrists. Ignoring this discomfort she waited for Paolo to join her before moving to the task at hand. They began their work in silence but not two minutes had passed before he initiated conversation.

"So I got to talk to Travis last night." She nodded and continued to silently review the data on her tricorder. "Gee Paolo, that's great! Good for you!" he declared in falsetto.

She gazed over at him then returned to her work. "If that is supposed to be an imitation of me then it was very poorly done. I would never speak so effusively nor in the same tone as the one you just effected."

He huffed and she imagined him rolling his eyes like Se'tak would as he crouched down behind the back of the secondary unit. "Well you know you _could_ say something like that if you wanted to. It's just us here, no one has to know." When she still did not respond he sighed and continued on, "So like I was saying, I got to talk to Travis last night. It was only for five minutes but still." Paolo pulled a small wrench from the back of his belt and angrily tightened the nearby bolt. "Public comm time sucks!"

"Time on the communications array is a privilege, not a right, on board the _Enterprise_; a privilege you will gain longer and more private access to once you achieve the rank of Lieutenant."

"Easy for you to say," he scoffed, "Your mother is Chief Comm. Officer; you can hop on the line whenever you want…and it might be more then two years before I make Lieutenant!"

Her eyebrow flicked up marginally toward her hairline as she continued inputting data. "While I believe you will disagree with me I will have you know that I do not abuse the privilege that my parents' rank affords me."

"Yeah right." Paolo rolled his eyes. "It's just so hard to keep a relationship going this way, you know? Between us we get maybe ten minutes of face time a week, if that, and it's not all back to back either! More likely one of us just got off shift, or is just getting ready to go on shift and we're rushed, OR we're just too tired to really get into a meaningful conversation. If we _do_ talk it's all done so fast so we don't forget to leave anything out." He fished again for the tool in his back pocket and tightened up another bolt before straightening up. "It's just so hard!"

T'Alora dropped her arms by her sides and looked him square in the eye. "Have you not repeatedly stated that things between you and Travis are, quote, 'fine'?"

His face reddened instantly. "Well yes, but…"

"And is he or is he not attempting to procure a reassignment aboard the _Enterprise _so that you may be reunited?"

"He is but you know how many people want…"

"Then your insecurities about your relationship stem from a lack of trust in your boyfriend and not from a lack of 'face time'."

Paolo's face fell. "Come again?" Suddenly growing uncomfortable with the turn in mood of the conversation she moved to the back of the third oxygen containment unit to resume her work, only he wouldn't let her. "T'Alora, what did you mean by that?"

She suppressed a sigh. "You believe that distance, your disparate schedules, a lack of private communication and a dearth of physical contact will dissuade your partner from remaining faithful or wanting to continue on in a monogamous relationship with you."

"I…no…I mean, Travis would never…he and I…we're…" his thoughts trailed off into unfinished silence and tension crackled in the air as they completed their assignment. After tying up all loose ends and transmitting the data to the main hub they climbed up the ladder and headed towards the Chief's office.

"He wouldn't, you know," Paolo declared out of the blue, "Cheat on me, that is." To her ears it sounded as though he were trying to reassure himself more then her. "We love each other."

"I understand."

Paolo stopped shorted and rounded on her. "Do you? I mean do you really? You're only nineteen, have you ever even been in a relationship…"

"Shhh."

He started to protest but her attention was already re-directed toward the high-pitched buzzing coming from the main plasma conduit. The sound became more pronounced as she drew nearer and she began removing the cover over the array to determine it's source.

Her partner stomped on over and was very clearly agitated. "Have you been listening to a word I've been saying? You pass judgment on me and make me all crazy over the status of my relationship when you've…"

"Do you not hear that sound?"

Her question caught him up short. "What sound?"

It was as she suspected then—the anomalous buzzing was beyond the normal range of human hearing. "I believe that something is interfering with the main plasma conduit and causing a malfunction in the shielding."

"Hmm." Paolo moved to stand behind her shoulder and watched as she worked. No sooner was the cover off then T'Alora discovered her uncle's 'improvements' to the manifold. She quickly started scanning the device for more details.

"What'd you find?"

Her eyes flicked over the tricorder read-outs. "It would appear that the shielding has been compromised by this latest upgrade."

Paolo slowly backed away, hands out by his hips. "By how much?"

She consulted the tricorder again. ".003 percent per day for the last 128 days."

"So what you're telling me is that—," he looked heavenward for a moment as he did the calculations in his head, "—the shields are roughly 0.5 percent less effective then they were four months ago?"

"It is 0.384 percent over the last 4.26 months."

"_Riiiiiight_…" T'Alora detected the sarcastic bent to his tone but did not dignify it with a remark. "You're serious."

"I am always serious."

Paolo ran a hand down his face and sighed. "Ok, well how about we go and let the Chief know about this? I'm sure he'll get on it sooner or later seeing as how it isn't urgent…"

She cut him off. "If Uncle Scotty were aware of the defect then he would have corrected it by now; it is therefore prudent of us to undertake the repairs in his stead." T'Alora continued to study the circuitry and became intrigued at the prospect of a challenging new project. Yes, the decrease in effectiveness of the plasma conduit's shielding was so small as to be negligible, but one could never be too careful when living and working aboard the _Enterprise_. Given the number of times the ship was attacked or encountered strange and unusual space anomalies she knew that all systems should be operating at peak efficiency lest something catch them unawares.

Very carefully she began pulling the wires back and checking connections to find the source of the problem. After his first few half-hearted attempts to stop her Paolo merely stood off to her left silently observing her work. It took her 20.8 minutes to determine that the shield's primary power wire had been split and that some of that energy was being diverted toward the array, compromising the shielding while increasing efficiency.

T'Alora held her hand aloft. "I am in need of your needle nose pliers." Paolo dutifully handed them over and then held back the other circuits so that she could focus on her work. For a nanosecond the shield above them flickered but it was enough to send the entire Engineering Bay into red alert and her uncle scrambled out of his office. "ACH!" he cried as he spotted them, "Lassie, ye shouldn'a be touchin' that!"

T'Alora immediately stopped what she was doing and stood at parade rest beside the console with Paolo following her lead. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" he roughly whispered, "We are in SO much trouble, T!"

Her uncle scrambled over as quick as he could and was red-faced and breathless as he examined the plasma conduit. "T'Alora, what'n did ye think ye were doin'? The plasma conduit is not for a first-year to be muckin' around with, even one such as yerself!"

"Chief?" McGinty shouted up, looking for direction.

He nodded down at his Second and said, "T'is a false alarm, Laura. Turn that infernal racket off and let the Cap'n know everything's alright. I'll give him the details later should he be needin' 'em."

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

She ran off to do his bidding and he turned his angry glare back to Paolo. "Ensign Acosta, why did ye not stop her? You're her superior!"

In the face of such ire her friend stammered. "I-I-I tried to, S-Sir. S-she wouldn't l-listen."

"So? T'is no excuse man! She could have blown a hole in half the ship!"

"Uncle Scotty," she chimed in, "I was merely attempting to correct a defect in your latest upgrade to the plasma manifold. Paolo made several overtures for me to cease my efforts, all of which I ignored. He is not to blame."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tight. Though T'Alora did not believe it possible her uncle's face grew even redder. "That's not for ye to be decidin'!" he said tersely. Taking a deep breath to reclaim his composure he then turned his attention back to Paolo. "I'll be keepin' an eye on ye and makin' a note of this in yer records, you kin be sure of that. I cannae be havin' crew on my floor who dinnae know how to give and take instruction."

By this time T'Alora was more then a little frustrated by the whole seemingly innocuous incident and she let it show. "I have stated this before but Paolo is not to blame. The plasma manifold was not in any danger of exploding at this juncture, though it would have been in the future had I not taken the time to correct your earlier efforts. If your modifications had adhered to any of the standard Starfleet safety protocols then…"

"Crewman T'Alora, you are dismissed!" She stared into his purple, bug-eyed face in open shock as he added, "And you as well, Ensign!"

Paolo scuttled off so fast she was reminded of one of Se'tak's old holo-cartoons where a trail of dust was always kicked up in the character's wake. Uncle Scotty, too, quickly stalked off in the opposite direction to make his reports, leaving her all alone in the middle of the platform with twelve gossipy engineers staring at her from various levels. Swallowing hard she did an about face and calmly strolled out of Engineering as if it had been her own idea all along.

* * *

><p><em><strong>U.S.S. Enterprise, <strong>_**2280.197, 1543 hours. **She had been in a state of meditation since her return to her quarters; if Telnor had been present no doubt he would have approved of her hours of careful contemplation. And yet despite it all T'Alora still found herself confused as to what exactly had transpired in Engineering. She had discovered a potentially life-threatening anomaly in her uncle's work and had simply sought to correct the defect, nothing more; why he had become so upset with her and Paolo she still did not comprehend.

It was to the tones of her door chime that she rose up through the layers of consciousness. "Enter."

The door swept open to reveal her uncle standing in the hallway. "I need to speak with ye about earlier…oh, forgive me, yer father said nothin' about ye bein' occupied. I'll come back later."

"I am finished," she replied as she rose from her mat. "And I would also like to discuss the events of this morning with you."

"Alright." Uncle Scotty strode in and looked about for a seat, finally deciding on the desk chair while she sat at the end of her bed with one leg folded under her. "T'is a nice room ye've got here."

"Thank you."

He bobbed his head a few times as silence descended over them; she because she did not know what to say and he because he appeared not to know where to begin.

"T'Alora…"

"Uncle Scotty…"

They both stopped and he smiled a small smile. "I'd normally say 'Lassies first' but I think this time I'll take the floor, ok? I need to make sure ye understand a few things first." She nodded once, ceding the conversation over to his control. "Right. First I want to apologize; I shouldn'a have lost my temper with ye like that. But ye have to understand—what ye were doin' was dangerous _and_ insubordinate. This internship of yours is for school credit and we need to treat it as such; that means you cannae be makin' up yer own assignments or talkin' back to me such as ye were in front of Ensign Acosta 'n the others. You kin ask questions and things but if ye disagree with me methods then we best talk about it privately, off the floor. Agreed?"

The metaphoric light bulb her mother was always talking about suddenly went off in her head and shame flooded her system. She had undermined her uncle's authority in front of his direct subordinates. Her face felt flush with heat. "Agreed," she mumbled.

"Good. To that end I'm thinkin' that for the duration of yer internship ye shouldn'a be callin' me Uncle Scotty when we're on the floor. While I am yer uncle—and right proud to be too, don't ye forget it—in Engineerin' you should call me either 'Chief' or 'Mr. Scott'." T'Alora stared down hard at the floor, feeling undeserving of his praise considering her earlier disrespectful actions. She did not know how to even begin to make things right between them.

"Lastly, ye should know by now that I'm well aware of what the _Enterprise_ can and cannae do. The plasma conduit upgrade was sanctioned by the Cap'n _and _yer father so that we kin harvest the extra power while we're patrolin' the Neutral Zone. The rate of decay to the shields wouldn'a have put the ship in direct danger for another 90 years, and I had no intention of lettin' it go on that long, only six months at the most. Ye dinnae know that that was the case earlier, and that is why it's important to be followin' orders whether ye understand them or not. Do ye see that now?"

She could not bring herself to look him in the eye and so he got up from his seat and crouched down in front of her. He gently shook her knee. "T'Alora…?"

"I apologize for my actions this morning. Henceforward I will conduct myself with the utmost professionalism." Although unbidden, moisture began to pool in her eyes. She had not meant to so severely disappoint this man whom she deeply-respected.

"Ah now, there there, Lassie; tomorrow is another day. Mistakes were made but that is how we learn, and ye must know that I cannae stay mad at ye for long." He patted her knee and then moved to stand; she followed him and threw her arms around her uncle's waist in a rare hug. She could feel him smile as he stroked her hair. "Y'know, no matter how old ye get I'll always think of ye as the little lass I carried on me shoulders who wouldn'a rest until she knew each and every square centimeter of Engineerin'." T'Alora said nothing but nodded against his shoulder. "Right then—I'll be seein' ye on Monday at 0900 fer the start of yer next shift."

As the doors swung shut behind him she resettled herself on the mat and re-lit her asenoi. There were so many emotions she needed to acknowledge and sort out—she also needed to plan how best to apologize to Paolo for her egregiously disrespectful behavior.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Forgive me if me engineerin' parlance makes no sense! I haven'a got a single mechanical bone in me body tho' I try to pretend otherwise ; - P

(Also, do forgive me if me attempt at a Scottish brogue doth offend as well. I meant no harm!)


	17. Chapter 17

**Scheming**

_**U.S.S. Enterprise, **_**2280.203, 1242 hours. **"Paolo, if you would…"

He rose abruptly with his half-eaten lunch tray in his hands. "I can't get into this now, T, I'm running late."

"I understand; however…" but he was gone before she could even get the words out of her mouth. T'Alora sat alone at the dining table in the middle of the Mess, absently picking at her salad while mulling over the dilemma she found herself in. She had spent the last five and a half days attempting to apologize to Paolo only to have him tersely cut her off at every turn. She truly did wish to make amends and was at a loss as to how to proceed.

"Hey." Se'tak plopped down beside her and eagerly tucked into his noodle and vegetable stir-fry. As he ate she could not help but stare at her younger brother, as both his attitude and manner of dress were in such stark contrast to her own that one could argue that they did not even share the same set of parents. His hair was short and unkempt in the 'bed-head' style he so recently preferred and he wore jeans, a gray, long-sleeved shirt, and a black t-shirt over that with the image of his favorite band, Mudge-Sludge, plastered on the front. A dollop of sauce dribbled down his chin as he spoke and landed on his shirt. "What's up?"

"It is impolite to carry on a conversation when you are eating."

He gave her the eye and flung his fork down. "Ok, what's wrong with you? You've had a bug up your butt all week—and don't get all Sa-mekh on me and act like you don't know what I mean. I _know_ you do."

T'Alora sighed. Apparently she had not been as good at managing her feelings as she thought she had been. "I had a disagreement with Ensign Acosta last Friday for which I have been attempting to apologize, yet he refuses to allow me the opportunity to do so."

Se'tak squinted and bit a hunk off his bread roll using his bare teeth and hands. She pointedly looked at the fork and knife by his plate which he equally pointedly ignored. "Huh. That's totally unlike him." He pointed the half-eaten roll at her. "_You_ must've really screwed up."

Her brother's tone set her teeth on edge. "I am well aware of my shortcomings." In the midst of her annoyance it suddenly occurred to her that she had an as-yet untapped resource at her disposal. "Se'tak?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you be willing to assist me in apologizing to Ensign Acosta?"

"Sure." He nonchalantly slurped down some more noodles. "Though you might have a better time getting through to him through Travis."

Ignoring all of his mealtime transgressions she let the corners of her mouth tick up slightly. "Sa-kai*, you are quite correct."

* * *

><p><em><strong>U.S.S. Enterprise, <strong>_**2280.204, 1702 hours. **She sat before the communications console in her family quarters with her PADD and personal comm. device were laid out on the desk in front of her.

"Ok," Se'tak's voice chirped on the other end of the line. "He's turning his work over now. I'll stall him for as long as I can, are you ready to lock down Turbolift 8?"

T'Alora typed in the address she'd gathered earlier from the Starfleet database while speaking to her brother. "Yes. I will await your signal." She snapped off the personal device and turned to Selas twirling in the chair at her left. "Do you remember your part in the scheme?"

He nodded in her general direction. "After the Ensign learns that Turbolift 8 is out of commission he will then make a detour and take Turbolift 9, disembarking on this floor. I am then to step into the hallway and request his assistance in our quarters where he will then be forced to interact with you."

She suppressed the grimace that fought it's way onto her countenance. "I do not approve of the use of the term force here, pi'sa-kai."

Selas ceased his spinning and leveled his milky white gaze at her. "You may not approve but the term is apt."

The main communications console ceased chiming and a young Andorian man answered. "Hello?"

T'Alora nodded. "Greetings. I am looking to speak with Nurse Travis Richardson."

The young man eyed her wearily then nodded and moved out of his seat, making way for his roommate to take his place. The young ensign had obviously just come off shift as he still wore the standard issue black undershirt with his uniform pants and his face looked pink and freshly scrubbed. "I'm Travis…I'm sorry, but do we know each other?"

"No, we do not. I am S'chn T'gai T'Alora and I'm calling because…"

"T'Alora." He spoke her name in a most familiar way. So he _had_ heard of her. "Is everything alright? Is Paolo ok?"

"Paolo is well. I am calling because…" Here she paused. She did not know how to state her case to Paolo's boyfriend without sounding either desperate or pathetic (both emotions which she was currently experiencing most acutely at this time). Luckily Selas jumped in and filled the gap for her.

"My sister is currently attempting to get back into Paolo's good graces after a disagreement they had last week. Since he will not speak with her more than is necessary she is hoping to rectify the situation by allowing him private and unrestricted communications access."

Behind Travis the Andorian lay on his bed reviewing the PADD in his hands. "That's Vulcan for the girl wants to use you to apologize to your boyfriend for her screw-up."

"I got it, Dras, thanks." Travis swiveled back to the screen and ruffled his hair. "Is that true?"

"Yes."

He looked startled and tugged his hair some more. "Oh wow. Um…I don't know whether to be flattered or a little insulted."

Before he could make up his mind her personal comm. chirped. "The eagle's on the move!"

T'Alora rolled her eyes at her brother. "Acknowledged." She turned to her PADD and entered in the override to lockdown Turbolift 8. "Selas, if you would take up your position near the front door." Her brother hopped down off his chair and pointed his cane around the room before making a fairly swift exit. She turned her attention back to the screen and stared at Travis expectantly.

"So…what exactly happened between you two? I didn't realize anything was up 'cause Paolo and I haven't had a chance to talk all week."

She felt the heat rise up in her cheeks. "I...inadvertently got him into trouble with his superior."

His eyes went wide. "Wow, you really don't do things half-assed, do you?"

"I fail to see how half of a buttocks would help in the accomplishment of any task, good or bad."

Behind him Dras laughed. "Travis, stop toying with the Vulcan using your human idioms."

He turned and glared daggers at his roommate. "Her _name_ is T'Alora, and I'm not toying with her. Besides, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Not at the moment, no," he glibly replied.

"_Dras…_"

The Andorian rose from his bunk and grumbled. "Fine, fine…" This time Travis turned to her and T'Alora realized it was her turn to supply the conversation.

"Paolo informs me that you are attempting to gain reassignment aboard the _Enterprise_."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I am, but it hasn't been easy. The waitlist to get on-board is as long as my arm, and while your ship's always on the lookout for doctors and nurses your CMO only takes the best of the best. I doubt I even measure up."

She nodded. "While it is true that Uncle Leonard does seek out the 'best of the best' I do not doubt that you are more then qualified and capable to fill any vacancy should one arise. If I hear of one I will be sure to pass the information along to Paolo as swiftly as possible."

He grinned. "Thanks, I appreciate it. Your vote of confidence really means a lot."

"Travis?"

Both were so engrossed in conversation that they did not hear Selas leave the family quarters nor draw Paolo inside until he stood in the office doorway looking more then a little peeved. Only T'Alora noticed how Selas quietly slunk away.

"Hey Babe," Travis declared, his smile widening as he caught sight of his boyfriend. "T'Alora here looked me up; seems she thought I could help bridge the gap between the two of you. She seemed to use a pretty elaborate ruse to lure you here too since it seems _somebody_ was being particularly stubborn about not wanting to talk about it."

Paolo's teeth ground in his head. "I still don't want to talk about it."

She rose from her seat and headed for the door, brushing past Paolo as he stared her down with his hard, flinty glare. "That is fine; I will abide by your wishes. However, feel free to speak with your k'diwa as long as you like." Here T'Alora turned back to the screen. "Travis, it was nice to meet you."

"You too."

She vacated the room and took a seat in the living room, reading from one of her PADDs while keeping an eye and ear on the office door. 46.2 minutes later Paolo emerged grinning from ear-to-ear-that is until he spotted her sitting stiffly on the sofa. "Thank you for that," he said quietly as he made a bee-line for the door.

As he exited her family's quarters T'Alora realized that he still had not officially forgiven her—but the door had metaphorically been opened and he would hopefully be more receptive to her apology in the coming days.

* * *

><p>* Sa-kai = Vulkhansu for brother<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

**The Start of Something New**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.316, 1416 hours. **The transition back to school occurred without incident and the last six weeks had passed by much the way she had expected they would—with one notable exception.

His name was David Merchant and he was a human third year student in her advanced astrophysics lecture. Standing at 1.87 meters T'Alora noted that he was not much taller then her and she was also of the opinion that he was not the finest specimen of her mother's species that she had come across in her travels; yet she repeatedly overheard other women (and some men) comment on his 'fine Roman nose', 'dazzling hazel eyes' and 'brilliant smile'. It was this same classmate that had managed to intercept her on five separate occasions after class as well as twice in the library and once in the cafeteria.

"T'Alora!"

Make that six times after class. T'Alora slowed her step as she heard him rush out of the lecture hall. "David."

"I'm glad I caught you." He held her by the bicep and his eyes widened in shock. "Wow, you must work out."

"Did you stop me to inquire after my exercise routine?"

"What? No, no, sorry," he quickly relinquished her arm. "I was wondering if I might take a quick look at your notes. I'm afraid I was a little lost toward the end there."

Her eyebrow rose yet she pulled the PADD from her bag and handed it over to him regardless. "Might I suggest that if you are continually 'lost' that you seek extra instruction from the professor during her office hours? The time spent with her may be of more benefit to you then by reviewing my notes."

David made quick work of downloading her data onto his PADD. "I know. Maybe I will, it's just that, well, you have such a good grasp on the material and you manage to express it better in your notes then Professor Imani does in class. I'm afraid spending more time with her wouldn't do me much good."

"Understood." T'Alora took back the proffered PADD and looked out over the crowded quadrangle. She had exactly 9.7 minutes to make it across campus to Telnor's office for their weekly meeting. "If you will excuse me." With a nod in her direction David stepped off and she headed toward her own appointment.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2280.318, 1945 hours. **"T!"

She strolled out of the bathroom to find Casey flopped down on her stomach on the bed, swinging her legs all around and nibbling on the end of her stylus as she gestured toward the comm. "Call coming in for you from the _Enterprise_."

Somewhat puzzled as to the occasion of the call T'Alora readily accepted and was greeted by Se'tak's worried image. "T'Alora, you have _no_ idea how glad I am that you're there! I need some advice."

She realized her brother must be in desperate need for council if he was calling her and using her proper first name. "I will assist you in any way that I am able, sa-kai."

Se'tak exhaled a long breath. "Good." He anxiously chewed on one of his fingernails and while she was disgusted by the habit she refrained from saying anything. At long last he blurted in a rush, "There's a girl on the ship and I think she likes me—like _likes _me likes me."

Both eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "Truly?"

The one word served to anger him greatly. "What, you think I'm so awful that a girl wouldn't like me?"

T'Alora shook her head. "That was not my meaning; I was merely expressing surprise at the fact that you are considering entering into a romantic engagement at so young an age."

He huffed. "I'm fifteen, T…"

"You are fifteen years, five months and four days…"

"…and it's not like I haven't been interested in girls before…"

"…which is full young…"

"…or that they haven't been interested in me…"

"…and considering our disparate natures I would have thought you would consult Mama on matters such as these, not me."

"…it's just that this time it's different."

T'Alora struggled mightily to tamp down her second wave of shock lest she inadvertently anger her emotional brother further. She had learned of his innocent flirtation the previous year with the Orion handmaiden Meruka but judging by his current demeanor her brother actually meant to engage in a more serious romantic relationship and he needed her assistance. "Please explain how this time is 'different'?"

Se'tak rubbed his temple. "It's different because we're friends—have been for a long time—and I don't know for sure if she likes me like that or not; and if she does I don't know if I want to date her." Now she was well and truly confused and watched in silence as her brother hemmed and hawed on-screen. "What I'm saying is I'm not sure if I like her the way that she seems to like me but maybe I could learn to? I mean, isn't that what dating is all about, to help you figure out if you really like the person or not? She's hot, don't get me wrong, but…"

"Se'tak, forgive the interruption, but I am in need of clarification."

"Ok."

"You said, and I quote, that this young woman 'likes you likes you'. What about her demeanor has aroused your suspicions that perhaps her—_feelings—_for you are more then platonic?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Just, you know, stuff."

T'Alora rolled her eyes at the inane statement. She was well aware that she was out of her depth with regards to this discussion yet she did not want to disappoint her brother in his time of need. While they were speaking, however, she realized that Casey had ceased her fidgeting and was instead quietly eavesdropping on their call. She asked her brother if she might consult with a third party to which Se'tak readily agreed and she invited Casey to join her before the comm.

Her roommate bounded off the bed and pulled up a chair, all giddy smiles. "Hey Tik Tak, how's it shakin'?"

He grinned back. "Oh you know, same old same old."

"Uh huh," she replied dubiously. "So what's this I hear about a girl liking you? And what kind of stuff is she doing to make you think she wants to be more then friends?"

"You know..." At Casey's hard glare Se'tak elaborated, "She always wants to spend more time with me, both in and out of school. Suddenly our study halls are synched up and she wants to become study buddies. Then on the weekends and stuff we'll have like a group game of laser tag and she'll find some excuse to make sure she's paired up with me. And sometimes she leans in close and touches me, like on the arm or the knee, which she never used to do. I swear, once she reached up to fix my hair and I almost thought she was going to touch my ear! She never used to do stuff like that before."

"_Ok_…and how would it have made you feel if she _had_ touched your ear?"

Se'tak shrugged again even as his skin grew flush. "I don't know."

Casey shook her head and giggled. "Boys, you're all the same," she muttered. Turning back to Se'tak she said, "Yes, you do know; either you would've liked it or you wouldn't have, which is it?"

"I…I…" he stammered, "I think I would've liked it. I think I would've liked it a lot."

"Ding ding ding, ladies and gentlemen, somebody has an admirer!"

Throughout the exchange T'Alora sat back and considered her own situation. Her recent experiences with David eerily echoed those her brother was experiencing with his own as-yet-unnamed paramour. Perhaps David was not struggling in astrophysics but merely sought to gain her attention and express his interest in her.

It was, she found, an interesting possibility.

"So do you think I should ask her out?" she heard Se'tak asked as she tuned back in to the conversation.

"Yeah man, go for it!" His cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed some more in embarrassment and Casey quickly reconsidered. "I mean, only go for it if you think you like her too, don't ask her out out of some sense of obligation or anything just because she likes you, you know? 'Cause that'd be the _worst_ possible thing you could do."

Her brother nodded. "Got it. Thanks."

Casey headed back to her bed and Se'tak was about to log off when T'Alora stopped him. "If you are in need of a private retreat in the near future," she began, "You would do well to climb the Jeffries Tube starting in the aft section of E deck and stop when you reach B deck. It is there in that four-by-four meter space that you will discover the 'sweet spot' of the ship."

"NO WAY! T, are you trying to tell me you once got it on in there?"

"What's a sweet spot?" Both asked of her simultaneously.

T'Alora turned to her roommate. "A sweet spot is a location on-board ship where gravity does not exist. On the _Enterprise_ this site is approximately two decks below the Bridge." Next she directed her attention back to Se'tak. "And to answer your question I did not 'get it on in there'. Whenever I was in need of space from a certain over-loud pi'sa-kai I would retreat to this section of the ship for peace and quiet so as to clear my head. This space prevented much bodily harm from coming to your person."

Casey gawked openly at the siblings. "T, you just made a funny!"

She rose an eyebrow as if in challenge while the corners of her mouth ticked infinitesimally upward. "Dif tor heh smusa, Se'tak."

"Sochya e dif, T," he dumbly replied back, still stunned by her pronouncement.

Once the call was ended T'Alora returned to her desk to start her homework—and consider her own inclination for David Merchant.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2280.323, 1418 hours. **At the conclusion of class the following week it was T'Alora who called out after David. With a look at his three companions they then trudged on ahead without him and he turned to greet her with a smile on his face. "Hey T'Alora, what's up? Come to ask me if you could borrow my notes this time?" he teased.

"No," she solemnly replied, "In fact I believe that you were never in need of my lecture notes in the first place."

David gulped. "Come again?"

"Certain information has been brought to my attention that has led me to conclude that your multiple requests to review my notes were all part of an elaborate ruse so that you might spend more time in my presence."

"Umm…" A light sheen of sweat began to break out on his forehead.

"Are you or are you not partial to me, David?"

"I…am."

"And does your predilection toward spending time in my company stem from the desire for friendship or something…else?" Although she stood tall before him, inside T'Alora was quaking. She was neither full of herself nor was she so desperate as to seek approval from any old member of the opposite sex yet the more she thought about a possible future with David, experiencing the type of profound love and companionship her own parents shared, the more she hoped he wanted the same thing.

"I do."

Just like that T'Alora felt her heart skip a beat at the confirmation; however, he did not add anything more to the conversation for 39.7 seconds. "Very well. I will see you in class on Thursday." She turned and headed in the direction of her dorm. In an uncharacteristic move T'Alora decided not to attend her next lecture and instead change her clothing and make use of the gymnasium in order to rid herself of the wild emotions competing inside her.

"T'Alora!" She ground to a halt on the edge of the quadrangle and waited for David to reach her. "I'm sorry, you just—you kind of caught me by surprise, you know? I didn't think you ever really noticed me like that. I know it's kind of last minute and everything, but if you don't have any other plans then maybe we could go out this Friday? There's this new pizza place that opened up around the corner from campus…"

"I am familiar with Ben's establishment near Yenera Square, though I have not yet visited his newest outfit."

David grinned. "Great! Does 1900 work for you?"

"I am available at that time."

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at your dorm room then. See ya!"

Her expression remained as impassive as ever as she watched him walk away. Inside, however, she was all smiles and jumping up and down for joy. Friday could not come fast enough.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** These next few chapters were really difficult for me to write. I had the ideas in my mind but they didn't always want to come out the way I wanted them to. I've read and edited these pages multiple times and while I'm not 100% happy with them I know that they were written to the best of my ability and there's nothing more that I can do. That said, please feel free to leave a review if you're happy/unhappy/see segments that can be improved as I am *ALWAYS* open to constructive criticism. Thank you very much and now I give you Chapter 19!

* * *

><p><strong>First Date<strong>

_**Ben's Pizzeria, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.319, 1911 hours. **They took a seat in a booth near the back, where David gallantly took her traveling cloak off her shoulders and hung it on a nearby peg. He was pleasant the entire walk over, asking after her family and what it was like for her growing up on-board a starship. The only time he blanched was when he discovered who her parents were but he quickly recovered. Along the way he inserted anecdotes about his life as well, which was how T'Alora learned that he had two younger sisters and that his parents boarded and trained horses on their farm in Virginia.

"Have you ever ridden?" he asked. She stared at him blankly for several seconds before he laughed and added, "A horse, have you ever ridden a horse?"

"No, I have not had the opportunity."

His eyes twinkled and he leaned back against the booth. "Ahh, you'd love it. Me, I miss it like hell. We have this great quarter horse named Quincy—he's one of ours, not a boarder's—and if you ever came to visit I'd definitely let you ride him. He's the best. Gentle as can be but rides like the wind if you want him to."

She had a question for him but just then the waiter returned to take their order and deposit their drinks. After settling on the buffalo tofu pizza T'Alora asked, "If you are so fond of horse back riding why did you not choose a university closer to your home so that you might engage in the activity more frequently?"

David grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, well, let's just say I'm not like my parents _at all_. They can't stand to travel but me? I always knew I'd go somewhere far away for school. Also, the VSA kind of chose me." Her eyes popped open in surprise. Rarely did the VSA seek out students. "Yeah, I've gotten that reaction before."

"Clarify."

"Ok, remember how I said a minute ago that my parents _hate_ traveling? Well on the flip side we live right down the street from a big university-not literally down the street but I think you know what I mean. Anyhow they've always liked meeting new people and so they decided that in addition to boarding horses they'd also house international students during the school year." David looked up to gauge her reaction and while she was still listening closely she made no other expression.

"So, best of both worlds, right? Well about four years ago Olan came to stay with us. He was studying teaching here and wanted to come to Earth to observe different teaching methods firsthand. Olan was the first Vulcan we'd ever had at the house and my Mom loved him. He was polite, but very quiet too, which isn't all that unusual now that I've spent more time with other Vulcans but still, it was for us back then."

Sensing that he was beginning to veer off-topic T'Alora interjected, "Olan is responsible for your attendance here?"

David hemmed a bit. "Indirectly. You see, I was in AP Physics at the time and I had all these questions and theories but my teacher didn't really have the time to entertain them-_so_ most nights if he wasn't too busy I'd pop in and ask Olan some stuff. I didn't think too much of it; I mean, Jenny and Chloe and I used to spend time with all the students who stayed with us, but Olan was something else. I always knew he was really smart but he also seemed genuinely interested in discussing this stuff with me. One day after one of our talks he asked if he could come with me to my high school. I said sure, but it ended up being a little weird 'cause it was like I had this big, brooding, Vulcan bodyguard following me around all day. Turns out the only reason he wanted to come was so he could meet my physics teacher, Mr. Kachadoorian.

"That night after dinner Olan asked my folks if he could have a private word with them. They thought maybe they'd offended him somehow and that he wanted to leave, but really all he wanted to talk about was his conversation with Mr. K. Turns out it _wasn't_ that Mr. K didn't have the time to talk with me, he just didn't have the answers; he barely understood more then us kids and we were the students he was supposed to be _teaching_. Olan thought that it'd be beneficial for me to study at the VSA when I graduated—then he contacted one of his professors, the ball got rolling, and bada bing bada boom here I am, sans horses," he finished, mimicking the wiping of his hands before clapping.

"Bada bing bada boom?" she asked slowly, one eyebrow raised.

David laughed. "Don't worry, it's just an old, nonsensical Earth expression." He took a sip of his soda and casually asked, "But what about you, how did you end up at the VSA?"

T'Alora quirked her head at him. "I have known from a very young age that I wanted to become a mechanical engineer. The Academy has the best program in the quadrant. I applied and was accepted."

His grin faltered somewhat. "Wow, pretty anti-climactic after my story, huh?"

The waiter returned and quietly slipped their pizza onto the table. "Indeed."

* * *

><p><strong>2038 hours. <strong>Over the course of their date T'Alora discovered that David's enjoyment of spicy foods rivaled her own, that his favorite colors were green and brown, that his middle sister, Jenny, desired to become a large animal vet, and that he was the first family member in six generations not to want to go into the family business. He in turn learned that she played the piano, was an avid swimmer (quite atypical for a Vulcan), that her brother Se'tak was a prankster, and that her favorite color was red.

At one point he excused himself to use the restroom and she decided to indulge her curiosity as to the new entertainments Ben had purchased for his second restaurant. T'Alora recalled seeing items such as these in old Earth holo-vids during _Enterprise's_ movie nights but had never seen them in person. She examined the first machine closely, a large, multi-colored box playing a classic Terran rock song. The music was so loud at this proximity that she started when David tapped her on the shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, hands held up. He watched her with what she suspected was fondness as she continued to examine the device. "It's called a jukebox—and before you ask no, I don't know where it got it's name."

T'Alora clamped her mouth shut and he laughed. How had he possibly known that that was what she was going to ask? A moment later something caught his eye and he ventured away from her. The machine David was examining had an upright scoreboard and flashing lights with a small plunger sticking out of one end. "No way! They have pinball machines!" He clamped his hands on either side and began pushing the buttons rather feverishly. "T'Alora, come here, you have to check this out! Have you ever heard of pinball before?"

She moved to his side. "No, I have not. What is it's function?"

"It's function is to steal my credits, that's what," he joked. Seeing her sober expression he added, "No, seriously, you have to try this."

David stepped aside and took hold of her hand and she froze in shock. The sensations overwhelming her were unexpected but not unpleasant; quite the opposite, in fact. Although her shields went up immediately T'Alora could still detect the happy buzz of affection that crackled over her skin.

"…and you try and keep the ball from falling out the bottom using these flippers." As he finished his explanation David looked up into her stunned face before his eyes dropped down to their enjoined hands. "Oh my gosh," he stammered, dropping her hand like a hot coal, "I'm so sorry! It was an accident!" Then as an aside he added, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"David." When he did not cease his muttering she repeated a little more forcefully, "David." He finally looked up at her. "I am unharmed."

He exhaled loudly and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, but you'll probably never want to see me again. Socially, that is." He began to pace.

"That is not true."

David ceased moving. "What?"

"I said that I would not be averse to seeing you again socially in spite of this lapse." She turned her attention back toward the game; it seemed simple enough, yet she still wanted to consult with him. "I believe I am in need of further instruction on the finer points of 'pinball'."

He paused beside the pinball machine and looked her over incredulously. "Really?" T'Alora nodded and he smiled. "Ok."

* * *

><p>Several rounds of pinball later David stood back to watch her, exclaiming, "You know, I think I may have met my match here."<p>

T'Alora knew he was referring to their pinball battle…and yet she could not help but wonder if he was also referencing their burgeoning romance too.


	20. Chapter 20

**New Sensations**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2280.329, 2148 hours.** Casey smiled and sighed as she swept in the door with a faraway look on her face. Both T'Alora and Poleia glanced at each other as their friend gazed happily away at the ceiling, clutching her PADDs to her chest. Although she had never informed them personally each knew that Casey was involved in a romantic relationship with S'hnra H'osheh Stalvek. This was the third time this week that she had come home rather late in the evening and looking, for lack of a better term, positively stupefied.

"Casey, are you well?"

The blond turned in Poleia's direction, eyes coming back into focus. "Of course, why wouldn't I be? I was just studying in the library, that's all."

T'Alora could not resist teasing her. "Were you reviewing anatomy?"

"Mmmm," she dreamily replied. Flouncing down on the bed Casey began taking off her shoes when her PADD chimed. She opened the incoming message and scrolled through, her smile widening exponentially. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"You have received some good news?"

"The best!" Casey squealed. Looking up at her roommates she asked, "Do you guys remember a long time ago when I said you should come home to Maine with me sometime? Well before I brought it up again I wanted to check with Aunt Jill and see if it was ok and she said yes! So what do you say, do you guys want to come home with me? First week of break in Bangor, woot woot!" When neither one of them replied she added, "There's gonna be _snow_…"

"I will have to consult my parents regarding our family's plans for the break but I do not foresee any problems. I accept your invitation."

"Great! P, what about you?"

Poleia dryly teased, "While the cold and wet climate of your region may be of some inducement to T'Alora I unfortunately will not be able to accompany you to Terra."

Casey pouted. "Aww, why not?"

Here their friend looked back to her PADD. "I am unable to afford the roundtrip fare."

"Oh." She looked to the floor, suitably subdued. "I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps another time?"

"Perhaps."

The mood in the room shifted considerably as all three went quiet. As interested as she was to visit Casey's home T'Alora was ill at ease over the thought that Poleia would not be able to join them. There was, however, one possible solution. "Poleia?"

The girl looked up from her PADD. "Yes?"

"If the matter of transportation were resolved would you still wish to join us?"

Living with them for the last three semesters had rubbed off as T'Alora noticed the ends of Poleia's mouth tick marginally upward. "Yes."

"Then I believe I may have a solution."

Casey's jaw dropped open. "You do?"

She nodded. "The _Enterprise_ will be in orbit around New Vulcan in approximately twelve days' time. Assuming I am able to secure permission from the Captain you may travel aboard with us as we return to Earth. Knowing that, you would then only be responsible for securing transportation from San Francisco to Bangor and then from Earth back to New Vulcan. This would significantly decrease the anticipated original cost." T'Alora looked to both of them. "Does this still sound agreeable to you?"

"Yes."

"YES!" Casey lay back and kicked the mattress with her heels while staring up at the ceiling. "This is gonna be so AWESOME!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2280.331, 1339 hours.** They sat atop a blanket on the rocky outcropping looking down at the city below, their lunch half-eaten and abandoned behind them. As they sat David slowly snaked his hand out and, with her encouragement, began lazily tracing shapes on the back of her hand.

"I wish I'd known you were heading back to Earth," he said after she'd told him of Casey's offer. "You could've come home with me and met my family."

The thought made her smile a shy smile. "If I were able I would have accepted the invitation," she replied, basking in his affections, "However, my family had planned to spend the break between San Francisco and Kenya. As it is I will be rejoining them in Africa after my visit with Casey before returning to school."

"I know." She looked down and realized he had been drawing a heart over and over on her hand. "I'll still miss you though." Theirs had been a chaste relationship so far and on this, their fourth date, T'Alora believed she was experiencing the sensation her mother once described as being 'smitten'. "T'Alora?"

"Yes?"

"May I…" David cleared his throat, "May I kiss you?" She tensed at the proposition, having only ever been affectionate with family members, and he seemed to sense her distress. "If you're not comfortable with the idea that's ok, we don't have to."

"It is not that," she corrected him. "I am simply uncertain as to whether or not you will find the end result to your liking."

He looked at her oddly for a moment then barked out a laugh. "Are you saying you don't think you're a good kisser?"

T'Alora swallowed her shame. "That would be correct."

"Oh T." He turned and lifted the tip of her chin with his finger, eyes locked on her full pout. "I don't think that's Vulcanly possible."

Before she knew it he'd pressed his lips to hers and she closed her eyes and floated along with the sensation. Words could not adequately describe how pleasurable, how liberating the experience was. She felt so carefree and soon her lips began to respond as if she had been kissing boys for years; and as the kiss deepened she felt David smile.

When they separated she stared at him as he slowly re-opened his eyes, looking completely blissed out. "Yep, I was right." The kissing recommenced before she could reply.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bangor, Maine, <strong>_**2280.346, 0938 hours.** T'Alora had been waiting for this moment since Casey first proposed the trip—the moment Poleia would come face-to-face with snow. There were a few centimeters of snow on the ground yesterday when they first stepped out of the transport station but overnight a large storm had blown in and was expected to deposit another meter or more before nightfall; although the way Casey hurried them along after breakfast it seemed as if she thought it would disappear before they ever got out the door.

Which was how they now came to be in the middle of the park the next street over carrying inflated inner tubes. Poleia had not made a single remark since leaving the apartment, acting for all the world as if she had had daily experience with snowstorms, only now she stopped and stood still as a statue with her face tilted up toward the sky. The snow was heavy and wet and falling rapidly, clinging to their clothes. T'Alora was already feeling the chill and as she watched her friend she wondered if the snow clothes her family had lent her were adequate protection against the weather.

And then Poleia did the unthinkable and stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake.

It took all T'Alora's Vulcan discipline not to fall over laughing.

"What's going on?"

She looked over her shoulder at Casey. "It would appear that Poleia is attempting to commune with nature," she joked.

That comment shook Poleia out of her stupor and she began to move toward them. "I was attempting no such thing," she declared, "I was merely making an observation of the meteorological phenomena known as snow."

"Oh?" Casey giggled and ran to catch up. "And what do you think?"

Poleia stopped abruptly, causing Casey to bump into her and promptly fall backward onto her behind, and this time T'Alora could not stop the quick chuckle that escaped her throat. Glaring down the tip of her nose at Casey, Poleia offered her a hand and replied, "It is as I predicted—wet."


	21. Chapter 21

**Alarm**

_**Bangor, Maine, **_**2280.349, 0458 hours.** She rolled over on her air mattress and lay there listening to the sounds of the house. T'Alora could easily hear Casey's aunt snoring softly across the hall while her friend took steady, even breaths in her sleep. Poleia, however, was entirely absent.

Stealthily she got to her feet and crept to the door, then stuck her head out into the hallway. The light was on in the living room and she heard the comm. unit dial once before being picked up.

"_Ashalik_*…"

T'Alora's eyes went wide. While she did not recognize the man's voice she did recognize the longing therein. Who knew that quiet, private Poleia had a boyfriend?

"Tal-kam Veh*, why did you not contact me sooner?" More emotion was relayed in that quiet declaration then Poleia had shown to her over the course of an entire year. T'Alora tiptoed closer to see if she could get a better look at the person on the other end of the line and discover why her friend seemed troubled.

"I have only recently begun exhibiting symptoms. It is not yet unmanageable." No sooner had he uttered this then something rattled off-screen.

"We both know that is not true," Poleia retorted. Her friend shifted in her seat and soon T'Alora heard the familiar ping as numerous new screens were called up. "I am searching for transport now and can be back on Vulcan soil in three days time."

She was close enough now that she could peer around the corner. Poleia's back was to her but T'Alora could clearly see the man she was speaking with. He was very tan, and had thin, wire—frame spectacles perched on his nose. He was noticeably older then Poleia; she estimated him to be around 40 standard years of age at least.

"It is not necessary for you to prematurely abort your trip. I will hold on until your scheduled arrival and the ceremony may be conducted at that time."

_Ceremony?_ It suddenly occurred to T'Alora what was going on—this man was in the early stages of Pon Farr. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the realization that Poleia was about to be bonded.

"Ferlan." Poleia spoke his name so sternly that it made even her stand up and take notice. "You told me yourself that your last Time came on very strong and very quickly. As it is I fear I may not arrive in time even if I am able to depart on a shuttle within the next few hours."

Ferlan's plight was confirmed when he openly smiled at his intended. "Do not fear, t'nash-veh pi'thresha-veh*—I burn only for you. I will hold on as long as I can." She nodded once and held his gaze before bringing up her index and middle finger and holding them against the screen. Ferlan mimicked the gesture and T'Alora looked away from the intimate moment. "I will see you soon, Ashalik. Be safe."

His screen went dark as he signed off while Poleia remained motionless in front of the comm. T'Alora waited to see what she would do.

"His name is J'tuk Y'nee Ferlan; he is the assistant manager of the agricultural dome and second only to my sa-mekh. We have been engaged for 2.57 years." Having been called out T'Alora now walked openly into the living room and sat down beside her. Poleia turned to her then and she saw a single tear streak it's way silently down her friend's cheek. "I fear for him. He nearly perished the last time; he did not recognize the symptoms until it was too late."

"Why have you never spoken of him before?"

Poleia sighed and gave a little shrug, clasping her hands on her lap. "We are a very private couple and I never had any reason to mention him."

T'Alora nodded. She knew as well as anyone how private Vulcan people were, especially about their personal lives, and no one of her acquaintance epitomized that value more than Poleia. She was about to leave her to her search when she began speaking again. "Ferlan is an orphan—his entire clan perished in the Destruction. Everything he learned about the Fires came second-hand and that information was exaggerated and piecemeal." She paused and looked at the hall, taking care to ensure that they were well and truly alone. "He feared for the monster he thought he would become. In New Shannai'Kahr he saw numerous couples forced together into bonds simply because of the Time. He swore that he would not settle for anyone other then his k'hat'n'dlawa and if the Fires came before then he would not place the burden on another's shoulders."

She gasped; such a notion was almost unheard of in the wake of the Destruction. Every life was too precious to be lost so needlessly.

"Prior to that day he worked as an accountant in the city managing the books for Hylar's Department Store. Then one morning he noticed his hands were beginning to shake. The tremors were sporadic and he paid little attention to them, as they were easily suppressible. Two days later he lashed out verbally at a co-worker over a minor infarction; again he took no notice of the impending crisis. The following day he realized he had a fever and the truth could no longer be denied, and that evening Ferlan returned to his apartment and implemented his plan. He left a list of instructions for the dispensation of his estate and walked out alone into the desert."

Her heart was thrumming in her side. "Then how did he come to New Gol?"

Poleia looked up from the hands in her lap and blinked. "He walked." T'Alora was about to contradict the possibility—the borders of the two cities were 517 kilometers apart—when her friend continued, "6.88 years ago Ferlan spent eleven days alone in the desert. I am the only one in my clan who knows his full story and even I do not know what occurred during that time. When my sa-mekh found him Ferlan was severely dehydrated, emaciated and unconscious. We clothed him, fed him and nursed him back to health; it was 7.4 months before he was truly well again, and in that time he had proven to be an invaluable resource at the dome. He requested to remain with us and aid my parents in their work as he had nothing left for him in the city and they readily agreed to keep him on."

T'Alora cleared her throat. "Was that when the tel* was formed?"

She shook her head. "No. Ferlan is 22.1 years older then I, and at that time I was still very young. Initially he took it upon himself to act as my mentor and as time went on our friendship developed. It was not until my sixteenth year that I realized the important place he held in my life."

T'Alora sat on the edge of her seat. She had never heard Poleia speak so much or so personally in all their months of living together and she was engrossed in the tale. They were gossiping much like humans. "What did you do?"

"Two weeks after I made my discovery I confronted him with the evidence I had gathered. Ferlan was…_resistant_ to the idea. He claimed to care for me as a brother would a sister and stated that I was too inexperienced to know what I was talking about. Dissatisfied with his response I turned to my ko-mekh for assistance. It was on her recommendation that I began to spend less time at the compound and more time in the city, attending concerts and lectures and cultivating new acquaintances.

"Fifty-nine days passed in this manner and Ferlan and I saw very little of each other; it was during this time that he began to recognize the truth to my words—that we were indeed t'hy'la*. He set about making amends for having previously dismissed me and then began to court me."

Poleia paused and looked off into the distance, no doubt recollecting periods of time from her courtship. "Since that time my sa-kugalsu* has supported me in my every endeavor and it was he who encouraged me to apply to the VSA. Ferlan has stated numerous times that he has no desire to curtail my future and wishes me to take advantage of every opportunity presented to me. When I was admitted to the Academy I was the one who proposed that the tel be formed so that he would not be in danger; that was why this evening I could not sleep. I sensed his growing agitation throughout the day but I believed it to be the result of the building delays for the new addition to the dome. It was not until I placed the call home that I discovered otherwise." She began to fret again. "Travel between New Shi'Kahr and New Gol takes no more then 155 minutes; neither of us anticipated that I would be off-planet when his Time came nor that the Fires would come on so soon." She looked into T'Alora's face with fearful eyes.

T'Alora leaned forward in her chair and laid a tender hand on her friend's knee. "You and Ferlan will survive this; you must trust in that. I will assist you in any way that I can."

Poleia nodded. "Thank you." Just then a particularly loud snore drifted down the hall and both girls turned to look in the direction of the bedrooms. "I am uncertain as to how to explain this to Casey and her aunt…"

"We will tell them that there is an illness in the family and that you are required on New Vulcan sooner then anticipated. It is not untrue."

"Agreed." She looked back to the screen and frowned, causing T'Alora to re-direct her gaze there. There were nine available passenger ships that would be leaving Earth's orbit that day bound for New Vulcan and the swiftest one would not arrive there for another four and a half days. Poleia began to despair. "I will be too late…"

An idea suddenly occurred to her and without a word of warning T'Alora took over the controls, punching in the well-known address in San Francisco. "I do not know why I had not considered this option sooner. You cannot be the only Vulcan on Terra separated from their bond-mate in their hour of need. The Embassy must have alternative transportation in place to assist those in similar situations to your own."

Before Poleia could make a reply the Embassy's secretary came on screen. "I will inform Casey of your imminent departure," T'Alora said, taking leave of her friend.

* * *

><p><em><strong> Bangor, Maine, Transport Station, <strong>_**2280.349, 0641 hours.** "Bye! Have a safe trip back, and call and let us know if there's anything we can do!" Casey called out to Poleia's disappearing form. When she was finally gone from sight they both stared at the pad a little forlornly then returned to her aunt in the waiting flitter. "I hope everything's alright."

"I do believe that all will end well." Looking down at her companion she saw Casey grinning, her mood instantaneously brightening.

"You know, T, I've always liked the fact that you're an optimistic Vulcan. Promise me you'll never change."

One eyebrow rose. "Change is inevitable; however, I will endeavor not to alter my personality or appearance too drastically merely to suit your whims."

Her laughter filled the station as the door swung open and they braced themselves to face another snowy, New England day.

* * *

><p>* Ashalik = Vulkhansu, Darling<p>

* Tal-kam Veh = Vulkhansu, Dear One

* "T'nash-veh pi'thresha-veh = Vulkhansu, My Little Clever One (I improvised on the Vulcan term for clever)

* tel = Vulkhansu, bond

* t'hy'la = Vulkhansu, soul-mates

* sa-kugalsu = Vulkhansu, fiancé


	22. Chapter 22

**Damage Done, Making Amends and Understanding**

_** Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2281.18, 1030 hours. **"Hey you!" Casey burst through the doors, arms flung wide despite the weight of the bags hanging off of them, and came toward her for a hug. "How was the rest of your break? Did you have a good time in Africa?"

T'Alora greeted her friend with equally open arms while ruminating on her winter vacation. She had met up with her family at the Uhura compound and spent the holidays catching up with her grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. "My holiday was most pleasant. How was yours?"

She turned to the bed to deposit her stuff and began taking off the blue windbreaker she wore. "It was great! Em surprised us; she got some last minute leave and came home on Christmas Eve. Best. Present. EVER!" Casey's grin stretched from ear-to-ear and she proceeded to tell her of all that had transpired during their month apart. She was half-way through emptying her second piece of luggage when she asked after Poleia.

"Have you heard from her at all?" T'Alora shook her head no; after discovering why their friend was in such a hurry to return home she thought it best to give her and her new adun some privacy. "I haven't either. I tried calling a few times but I think there was something wrong with the connection; it kept re-routing me to the J'tuk Y'nee clan house. I hope everything's alright. I wonder what time her train gets in?"

Casey continued speaking—half at her and half to herself—before finally deciding to head to the dining hall. When they returned they discovered Poleia unpacking her bags with the assistance of a tall, lithe, Vulcan man who was hastily pushing his eyeglasses back up the bridge of his nose. T'Alora mentally appraised Ferlan from the doorway as Casey heedlessly rushed in.

"Poleia!" Unmindful of their guest Casey grabbed their friend about the waist in what would have been a bone-crushing hug on a less dense person. "I was so worried about you! Is everything ok? I tried calling you at home but there was something wrong with the line."

Slowly and carefully she pried the human girl off her. "All is well. I apologize for not contacting you sooner and needlessly upsetting your precarious emotional balance." Casey laughed as Poleia took another step back to stand beside her husband who had been quietly observing the unfolding scene. "Casey, T'Alora, I would like to introduce you to J'tuk Y'nee Ferlan…"

"So _THAT'S_ who my calls kept getting re-directed to! I was beginning to wonder…"

"…my adun."

Casey's jaw fell open and her eyes bulged out of her head. "Your what?"

Though the repetition was unnecessary Poleia did not take her question rhetorically. "My adun."

Although their friend was still clearly in shock Ferlan stepped forward and made a little bow toward each of them. "Greetings. Poleia speaks of you both often."

T'Alora was about to respond in kind when her friend beside her humorlessly blurted out, "Funny, she's never mentioned you." She took a few shaky steps backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed and she sat down.

Overlooking the interruption she tried again. "Greetings, Ferlan. I am S'chn T'gai T'Alora, and this is Casey Morton. You honor us with your acquaintance."

She watched the green blush tint the tips of his ears; her clan was very well-known, with many off-worlders likening them to royalty, and despite the frequency with which Poleia allegedly spoke of them she had apparently omitted this detail. However, Ferlan maintained proper decorum throughout. "It is I who am honored." His eyes swept over to Casey who was still too discomposed to speak. "I trust that you will continue to watch over my adun'a until I am able to retrieve her at the end of term?" She nodded in the affirmative and Ferlan's countenance instantly brightened. "Then I am further indebted to you both." He held up his right hand with two fingers extended. "My wife, attend." With Poleia's hand safely ensconced in his Ferlan turned and bowed to them both once more. "Dif-tor heh smusa, T'Alora and Casey."

"Sochya e dif, Ferlan."

The door was trailing closed behind them when she heard Ferlan exclaim to his wife in a low voice, "You were correct in your assessment, Ashalik; Casey is most emotive, even for a human…"

T'Alora moved to her desk, setting her PADDs to rights even while reviewing her mental assessment of Ferlan. He had made a very good first impression and appeared to be a kind and upright man. It was clear (to her eyes at least) that the couple were enamored of each other and that their match was a meeting both of souls and minds. Most importantly Poleia was happy—for all her years of discipline even she could not hide that trace emotion from her countenance completely—and T'Alora was happy for her.

"Did you know?"

_Casey_. Her friend had been so quiet she had almost forgotten she was there. "It is not uncommon in our society for people to be bonded at a young age…"

"Young age? He looks old enough to be her father! Doesn't that bother you?"

"Ferlan is only 22.1 years older then Poleia and they have known each for the last 6.94 years."

Casey's razor sharp gaze and tongue were on her in a flash. "So you did know!"

"I…" T'Alora hedged. "I suspected; however, in the family all is silence."

Her eyes narrowed into hard little slits. "All is silence? All is silence! What does that even mean? And what makes you so special that you're all of a sudden 'family' to her and I'm not?"

She bit back her own anger and clasped her wrist tighter behind her back. "You have misinterpreted what I have said. Poleia is a private person, as are all Vulcans…"

"So what, just because you're part-Vulcan makes you family and I'm not?"

She grew increasingly exasperated and let slip a sigh. "_Casey_…"

Her friend exploded out of her seat. "No, don't 'Casey' me!" She began gesturing wildly with her hands as she paced about the room. "You two share a culture, I get it, and maintaining privacy is all well and good, but how hard can it be to say you're engaged? Or that you're getting married! It's supposed to be a happy occasion for crying out loud, why keep it shrouded in secrecy like it's something to be ashamed of!"

Had she understood the subject of Pon Farr Casey would not have asked such a question; as it were she did not. However, a sudden revelation occurred to T'Alora that shocked her to her very core, so much so that she stared at her friend with the most peculiar facial expression ever to take up residence on her face. Casey immediately cringed. "What? What are you looking at me like that for?"

"I believe that you are utilizing me as a proxy by which to vent your anger on instead of Poleia. You believe that you have been personally wronged when nothing could be further from the truth only you refuse to hear any word of explanation; and as the case stands I no longer wish to be party to your verbal abuse." Turning on her heel she promptly strode out the door without stopping to collect her ID badge or traveling cloak.

"What the—" she heard Casey splutter behind her. "T'Alora, get back here! You can't just walk away from me in the middle of a fight!"

"I can and I have," she leveled back at her coolly.

As she neared the end of the hall she encountered Poleia disembarking from the lift, who very quickly discovered that something was wrong. "Where are you going?"

"Anywhere that is not here."

* * *

><p>She encountered David as he crossed the quadrangle headed toward her dormitory. After sensing her ill mood he ushered her back in the direction of his own room where they sat for the last 18.4 minutes with his arm draped over her shoulder as she leaned into him and recounted the events preceding his arrival.<p>

"So let me see if I've got this straight," he declared. "You, Casey and Poleia are all best friends, yet for some reason Poleia never told either of you that she had a fiancé. Somehow you found out but for whatever reason you didn't tell Casey. Then, Poleia went and got married in secret and Casey found out and she went ballistic on you. That sound about right?"

"That is an accurate, if somewhat colorful summary, yes."

"Well then I'm sorry but you're not going to find any sympathy here from me. I can see exactly why she's pissed at both of you. Her anger's totally justified."

T'Alora extricated herself from David's hold and stared him down. "I do not take your meaning."

He shot her the eyebrow. "Really?" When he saw that she was not joking he continued, "Well you keep going on and on about how important Vulcan privacy is and how it wasn't your place to say anything but have you even once considered how Casey might see all this? She's only human, T'Alora, her perception is colored by emotion; you of all people should understand."

"I of all people?"

"Yes! You're part-human!" Marginally calming down David added, "Stop thinking about this logically and try thinking about this from her point of view. It's not just that this information came out of the blue but she also feels like she's been betrayed by her two best friends."

T'Alora sat stiffly on the other end of the bed, struggling to contain her breathing. She was so preoccupied with maintaining proper Vulcan decorum she had completely overlooked the fact that her friend was human, and she was stunned that it was David who had to point that fact out to her. "You are correct."

Now it was his turn to be surprised. "What?"

"I said you are correct."

The blush crept up onto his cheeks. "Can I, uh, get that in writing or something? Because it's been my experience that women _never_ say that to their significant others, ever."

She graced him with the smallest of smiles and settled back into the crook of his arm. "You are almost as witty as you are insightful."

David drew back in a show of mock-indignation, though she could tell he was amused by the crinkles around his eyes. "Almost, huh? Almost? I'll show you almost…"

It was fortunate for them both that Rex, his roommate, had been forced to take a later transport, as tickling quickly gave way to much kissing.

* * *

><p>She returned to her dormitory near dusk, crossing the quadrangle with David's parting words ringing in her ears.<p>

_"I know I'm not supposed to know about—you know—but I do." At her questioning glance he mimed the words Pon Farr and she once again stiffened in her seat._

_ "How have you discovered…?"_

_ "Whispers, mostly. Observations. No one's ever told me outright but if you start looking at a thing long enough you tend to figure it out. I get why Vulcans are all hush-hush about it but I think you can trust Casey with the info. It might go a long way toward smoothing things over."_

As she entered the room she heard the water running in the bathroom and saw Poleia sitting at her desk. "Casey is most upset with us."

"Yes," T'Alora replied as she crossed the room. "I am well aware."

"I had not anticipated such a violent reaction from her upon returning to the Academy this semester."

She pulled up her own chair and Poleia turned so that the two were now face-to-face. "Her emotional attachment to us combined with the need for secrecy has created an untenable situation; one which I suggest we remedy as expediently as possible."

Poleia's eyebrow shot up. "What do you propose?"

"The truth. David has suggested that she can be trusted with the information and I am inclined to agree with him."

Her other eyebrow darted up to join the first. "You have spoken of such intimate matters with your _human_ boyfriend despite your limited acquaintance?"

Given the stresses of the day T'Alora did not bother hiding her glare. "I did not speak of such matters with him; it was David who initiated the conversation stating that he already knew."

"Already knew what?" Both turned to see Casey standing in the doorway towel-drying her hair. "Or is this another secret you're not supposed to let the little human girl in on?"

She had never spoken so coldly to them before and T'Alora grieved inside for having damaged their once strong friendship. Poleia, on the other hand, simply looked flustered. "I…I…" her eyes darted from her to Casey and back again. "I see the wisdom with your course of action, however, I cannot…" her voice trailed off and she abruptly rose from her seat. She glanced at them each once more before picking up her cloak and heading out. "T'Alora…"

"Of course." And with that decided Poleia shot her a grateful nod and exited the room. Meanwhile her other friend flounced down dejectedly on top of her bed.

"Casey."

She looked up and around the room as if in a daze. "Oh, are you talking to me now? Is this something I'm allowed to hear?"

T'Alora was growing tired of the act. "Casey," she repeated more sternly. "What I am about to explain to you is not commonly discussed outside our culture. You cannot share this information with anyone—not your aunt, not your sister, nor any of your other friends here at the Academy or back on Earth; you cannot even intimate that you possess this knowledge to any other Vulcans. It is rarely discussed among family members and is only introduced into a conversation when absolutely necessary, usually when a young man or woman reaches approximately fourteen standard years of age."

Here she paused again to gauge Casey's reaction. She was completely somber. "I need you to understand the importance of what I am about to impart to you. This information cannot be taken back and this subject matter is not to be taken lightly. There was no dearth of trust or attempt to deceive you on mine or Poleia's part and our reticence to discuss this with you was not a reflection upon our friendship; we were simply adhering to the social constructs within which we were raised. This news is also very likely to taint how you view and interact with all Vulcans now and in the future." As an afterthought she quietly added, "I believe it may also be of some personal importance to you as well."

Her friend appeared both simultaneously alarmed and intrigued and she wondered if perhaps this speech alone would serve as warning enough. "Do you wish me to proceed?" There was a split-second hesitation before Casey answered in the affirmative. T'Alora nodded and took a calming breath, recalling the day her mother delivered this lecture to her. "There is a biological imperative that makes itself manifest in our men once they reach adulthood, usually in their early-30's. It occurs once every seven years…"

* * *

><p>Of all the scenarios that had likely gone through Casey's head previous to her lecture, T'Alora doubted that this one had even come up. "So you…and they…and then…and it…"<p>

T'Alora merely quirked an eyebrow at her friend as she paced across the room spluttering out half-formed thoughts. Until such time as an actual question was put to her she had no inclination to speak. Just then the door opened and Poleia returned, looking outwardly to be the very picture of calm—until Casey flung her arms about her. "Oh Poleia, I'm so sorry for getting mad at you! Are you ok? Here, sit down…" The two Vulcans shared a glance as Casey quickly ushered her into a chair. "I had no idea."

"I understand. Ferlan and I are well and that is all that need be said upon the matter."

"Of course, of course…except…"

T'Alora was not sure but she thought she caught Poleia rolling her eyes. "Yes?"

"Are you…you know…?" she glanced down at her friend's abdomen and waited. With a start T'Alora realized that she had not considered that possibility either.

"No, I am not with child," Poleia coolly replied. "We have decided to postpone the start of our family until I am finished with my education and am established in my career." With a pointed look at their friend she added, "Now may we set this matter behind us?"

"Absolutely. I hate fighting with you guys—and I'm sorry to you too, T, for yelling at you earlier."

"All is forgiven," she said with a nod. Both moved to return to their own personal business while Casey continued to speak.

"Good; and in the interest of openness and friendship I've got something to tell you guys. I've been seeing someone for the last year or so. A Vulcan. His family doesn't approve and that's why we've had to keep it quiet. His name is Stalvek."

"We know," they replied in unison. In the middle of the room Casey stood and balked.

"What the…how did you…why didn't you say…?"

They did not hear the end of how they knew about her personal business for the rest of the evening.


	23. Chapter 23

**Full of Surprises**

_**Vulcan Science Academy,**__**New Shi'Kahr, **_**2281.72, 1625 hours. **She returned from her afternoon excursion in the city's shopping district empty-handed and inwardly disheartened. Entering the room code the pneumatics opened and she was surprised to find that despite the pleasant weather both her roommates were indoors. "Poleia, Casey."

"Hey T."

"Greetings, T'Alora."

She set her purse atop her bureau before settling down in a chair. "I am in need of your collective expertise…" Casey squealed with delight and immediately swiveled in her seat, "…with regards to a—_personal_ matter."

Both her blond friend's jaw and stylus instantly fell. Poleia was much more discrete as to her intrigue but she was still spotted moving closer to the edge of her bed. "How may we be of service?"

"Oh! I know, I know!" Casey cried, "You're thinking of having se-…"

T'Alora knew all too well where her mind was going and firmly put a stop to that train of thought. "No; I am not prepared to divest myself of my virginity and engage in intimate relations with David. What I seek is your advice as to the type of token I should present to him on the upcoming anniversary of his birth."

Casey blinked. "A birthday gift? All this just because you want our help with a birthday gift?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Her face fell again for the second time in 40.1 seconds. "Well that's a horse of a different color."

T'Alora canted her head. "While the gift of a horse would no doubt be appreciated by him, it would be fiscally irresponsible of me to purchase such an animal at this time. Also, the transport to, and boarding of, a horse on New Vulcan would be ill-advised as our planet is far from Terra and such a clime would be inhospitable to the creature."

Casey giggled. "T, I know you've said he's a horse man but I didn't mean an _actual _horse, I was just using a figure of speech." Both Vulcans stared at her blankly and she rolled her eyes. "Oh never mind."

A heavy silence descended upon the room as the trio sat deep in thought until Poleia finally spoke up. "Perhaps if you enumerated on David's other interests then we might be better equipped to assist you."

"Yes, that would be the wisest course of action." She thought hard for several seconds on the various activities and pursuits her boyfriend mentioned he enjoyed. "He has stated several times that he garners a great deal of enjoyment from puzzles and riddles; also, David said that 5.33 years ago he and his father embarked on restoring a first generation hover cycle. When this task was complete he garnered a great deal of enjoyment from riding the cycle around in surrounding fields."

"Ok…" Deep in concentration, Casey scrunched up her face. It appeared that she too was at a loss as to how to incorporate this particular interest and translate it into a present. "Got anything else?"

"He also derives a great deal of pleasure from drawing sketches of everyday people and objects."

"You are saying that David is an artist in addition to being a scholar?"

T'Alora nodded. "Yes."

"Then perhaps a paper sketch pad and some charcoal pencils would be appropriate," Poleia suggested. "The paper would no doubt be difficult to come by; however, it would surely be appreciated."

"Agreed, however…" T'Alora's voice trailed off as she pondered how best to voice her thoughts on the matter. "I have already considered this gift and, given the nature of our connection I have found it somewhat—lacking." She chanced a glance at Poleia to see if she had taken offense and discovered no judgment there. Apparently bonding had mellowed her quite a bit.

Casey instantly perked up. "What you're saying is that your relationship has progressed to a point beyond such a simple gift, even though we all know how rare real paper is."

Not for the first time she had to parse out her friend's true meaning. "Yes, that is correct."

"Hmm…" Casey bit on her lower lip and tapped at her temple. "He draws, rides horses, does puzzles, drives fast cars…hmmm…"

While she ruminated on the issue at hand Poleia took the time to inquire as to whether a celebration was being planned in David's honor similar to the two she had had to endure from Casey. "Yes," T'Alora answered, "Rex has informed me that he, Wei-Shing and Jedrek would be hosting a gathering later that evening in the common room of their dormitory. They have also asked that I keep him occupied in the hours leading up to the commencement of the festivities so that they may decorate."

"They asked you to keep him busy?" Casey blurted out. T'Alora could see by the widening of her eyes that the metaphorical light bulb had gone off in her friend's head.

"Yes."

She cheered and pumped her fists in the air, triumphant. "Oh I am BRILLIANT! _Brilliant_, I SAY!"

Poleia arched one eyebrow at her. "Would you care to expound further on this alleged genius of yours?"

"Now now, Poleia, don't go gettin' all jealous of me and my smarts." She winked and stuck a tongue out at her and Poleia simply rolled her eyes. "Ok, T, here's something you could do…"

* * *

><p><em><strong>New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2281.79, 1541 hours. **T'Alora waited at the end of the street on the border between New Shi'Kahr and the Waran'i Desert. She had one booted foot placed on the cobbled roadway to stabilize her while beneath her the hover cycle engine hummed impatiently. She had implemented Casey's idea and with careful planning and much help from her friends David's birthday plan was now coming to fruition.

All afternoon she followed him and watched from afar as he followed her clues, the first of which she had slipped under his dorm room door. A cut-up of a holo-image from a shared vantage point in the rock garden, he pieced it back together fairly quickly and she saw his trademark grin as he raced to the spot. Once there David looked down to find a message written in the sand, and this clue took him considerably more time to puzzle out. Fifteen minutes later he was off in the direction of the library and T'Alora stuck to the shadows to ensure he did not stray far from the path she had designated.

On and on the clues went—twenty-two in all to commemorate his twenty-second birthday—and now the game that had begun 1.37 hours ago was about to come to an end. David had discovered the last clue (a helmet and credit chit) and was headed toward Anjali's Hover Cycle Stand.

T'Alora was continually surprised by the emotions that built up within her as the afternoon progressed. The cat-and-mouse game she and David were participating in excited her and she felt playful in a way that she had not felt since she was 6.85 years old. She also felt so amorous she was uncertain as to whether or not she could wait until they reached the designated rocky outcropping (where she had carefully hidden their picnic dinner) or whether she would end the game early and race into his arms.

Suddenly a flash of sharp movement from the end of the road caught her eye. David bobbed and weaved among the throng, finally making his way to the stand. He hastily presented his chit to the man behind the counter and strummed his fingers along the surface, all the while looking around to try and get a glimpse of her. She inwardly smirked, pleased that her attire had helped her blend in so well. After David signed the waiver and accepted the keys the man led him to his cycle and once there he hesitated.

David was uncertain of how to proceed. Apparently her dark tinted helmet and Terran style of dress had hidden her a little _too _well.

Her eyes twinkling with mischief she kicked off and maneuvered the bike over the heads of the shoppers; but David was no longer looking her way. Hoping to catch his eye she revved the engine and a ripple of pleasure tore through her as his head snapped up. In that first split-second it was clear that he still did not recognize her, but as she turned sharply toward the desert T'Alora knew the long braid hanging down her back gave her away. When she cleared the 1 kilometer mark she looked back and saw that David was in hot pursuit and vainly attempting to close the gap.

A quick giggle escaped her as she caught him increasing his speed and anticipated what was to come. Revving her engine some more she doubled her own speed and took off over the plains. She arrived at their destination in less then half the time she had estimated and hopped off the bike before it was fully disengaged so she could scramble for cover.

He was upon her location in 53.2 seconds. "T!" She did not respond and instead listened to him take the keys out of the ignition and toss them into his helmet. "I know you're out there you little minx!" The toe of his boot kicked a stone against the rock wall and the sound reverberated throughout the labyrinth; it sounded like he was headed her way.

T'Alora pressed herself against the wall waiting for him to come closer. She was so giddy with anticipation that this time she did not try to hide her smile. Craning her neck around the corner she checked for any sign of David; she thought she heard muted footfalls approaching…

"Gotcha!"

She let out a gasp of surprise as he caught her from the other side. He pulled her back roughly and pinned her by the shoulders, all the while staring down at her with those large hazel eyes that fairly smoldered with desire. As he leaned in to kiss her T'Alora let loose a contented sigh that sounded faintly like a purr.

"This," he declared as he pulled back for breath before diving in once more, "is amazing. You're amazing. I can't even believe…" David let the thought trail off and tugged at the zipper of the synthetic leather jacket she had worn for the occasion. "And to top it all off you look good enough to eat…"

He began a feverish trail of kisses along her cheek to her ear and down her exposed neck. All inhibitions lost when he was kissing her like that, T'Alora smiled and teased, "Although I was previously made aware of your carnivorous inclinations I did not know that they extended so far as to include female Vulcan flesh."

David grinned into the side of her neck. "Yeah, well, when you look as hot as that," he whispered, "And you ride like the Devil himself I can't be held accountable for anything I might do."

They continued to explore one another with their lips and tongues for an indeterminate amount of time until she felt a slight chill press against the flesh above her hip and a rush of lust not her own flood her system. It was David and his hand was slowly creeping upward toward the cup of her breast. Despite her own wild emotional state this was much further then she wanted to go and she gently but firmly took hold of his wrist.

His disappointment was instantaneous.

"Perhaps," she said, "it would be wise of us to cease this activity and consume the meal I have prepared before you make good on your earlier threat."

He nodded and removed his wandering hand, placing both palms against the bedrock on either side of her head. "Ok." David's breathing was still uneven as he sought to halt the rush of adrenaline and she silently slipped out from his hold to retrieve the basket and blanket for their picnic dinner.

* * *

><p><strong>1746 hours.<strong> "You can't honestly say you don't see it—it's right there!" David enthusiastically gestured up at the clouds in the twilight sky. "It's a rabbit, mid-hop, clear as can be."

He had been unsuccessfully attempting to get T'Alora to play this game for the last 31.6 minutes. His head resting languidly in her lap she ceased stroking his lush, dark hair and gazed up at the cloud in question. "I can truthfully state that there is no manifestation of a Terran rabbit in the atmosphere. It is merely another cumulus cloud, same as the seventeen others before it."

"Psh." Through the light bond she felt a rush of affection from David as he went back to his cloud gazing. As the sky slowly darkened she felt his high spirits begin to wane and he turned more contemplative. "T'Alora…"

She kept her hand still on the crown of his head. "Yes?"

"Have you—have you ever thought about the future? You know, what you might do, where you might live, that kind of stuff?"

One eyebrow shot up at his non-sequitur. "I have." The silence stretched out between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic humming of the Sencha insects.

David craned his head back to look up at her properly. "And…?"

"And I have come to the conclusion that the future is fluid. I can more accurately predict local meteorological phenomena then I can my own future. The only data I possess on the matter is that I am quite adept at working with warp capable machinery; therefore it is logical to assume that that skill set will be utilized in my future employment opportunities."

"Oh. Ok."

David was trying hard to keep his thoughts and emotions in check yet she detected lingering traces of disappointment. She had said the wrong thing. "I have upset you. This was not the answer you wanted to hear."

"What?" He bolted up and rolled over, now resting on his side to watch her. "No, I…"

"Yes?"

"I just thought that maybe…"

"Yes?"

"…that maybe your future…"

"Yes?" The anticipation was literally seconds away from making T'Alora crawl out of her own skin.

"…might include me?"

As he said the words T'Alora closed her eyes and smiled, joy radiating out straight from her core. Instead of addressing the issue directly she chose to ask David another question. "Upon your graduation do you intend to reside here on New Vulcan, back on Terra, or elsewhere in this star system?"

"I always saw myself going home to Virginia and finding a job near there, at least at first," he said somewhat hesitantly. She noticed that his slight drawl always became more pronounced whenever he was uncertain of himself and she found it all rather endearing.

T'Alora began running her fingers through his hair once more. "In the various scenarios I have envisioned for my future I have found that 33.77% of them involved Terra as my home base, with New Vulcan coming in second at 28.45%. The likelihood that I will work and live on another starship is 19.16% while the remaining 18.62% accounts for other locales with employment opportunities that I have not heretofore considered. Given this data and your own predilection for Terra I estimate a 48.31% chance that we will be involved with one another in our respective futures."

David relaxed considerably at that and he became playful once more. "48.31%, huh? That's almost 50/50," he mused. "I kind of like those odds." He reached up for her wrist and kissed the back of her hand, making her tingle all over.

She liked the statistics too; in fact even now the odds were rising steadily in his favor.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** A memory of an old boyfriend inspired me to write this chapter—and that's all I have to say about that O = D

**A/N2:** I don't normally beg like this but I'm making an exception this time because I am having an *incredibly* shitty day and could really use some love. If you have 2 minutes could you please leave a review? Whether you liked the chapter or not or thought it could be improved upon I'd love to hear from you. Thank you!


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! They definitely made my day better and I'm most certainly taking all the constructive criticism to heart. That said this chapter and the next one may not be easy to swallow but I hope you won't think they're too OOC. Just keep in mind that everything happens for a reason, and thanks again for tuning in to "Forging Her Own Path"!

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><p><strong>The Housewarming Party<strong>

_**New Shi'Kahr, **_**2281.105, 2030 hours.** David placed a hand at the small of her back as they approached the apartment door. "Relax, T, it's just a party."

She nodded as he pressed the chime. "I understand; however, it is the nature of the gathering that I do not comprehend. Are we expected to warm up Jedrek's new apartment by the sharing of body heat? And what is the purpose of the _Schlumbergera bridgesii_ along with the package of Budweiser Classics?"

He let out a sharp, barking laugh. "First off, no, we're not warming Jed's new place up with our collective body heat; we're just celebrating the fact that he got his first apartment. Second, the plant is just a traditional housewarming gift. As for the Bud Classics, well, they're as much for me as they are for him." Just then the doors opened and Terran rock music along with the sound of many loud conversations assaulted her ears. Jedrek stood before them beaming from ear-to-ear, his pale face flushed bright red, and he swept David up into a one armed hug.

"You guys made it, great!" David held the imported brew aloft. "And you brought beer, even better! Come on in!"

The pair entered and T'Alora took a quick look around. The abode was modest, even by New Vulcan standards, and the entryway opened directly into the small kitchen and living room where there were already twelve people standing around in various states of intoxication all chatting with one another. Their host led them down the narrow hallway past the bathroom and bedroom until they reached a third room that faced east. T'Alora surmised by the size of the space and the bank of floor to ceiling tinted windows that it was meant to be a meditation area yet Jedrek had installed a desk and small pull-out sofa and turned it into an office and guest bedroom instead.

"You can leave your coats here." Jedrek pointed to the pile already forming on the back of the chair before heading out. Moving back to the kitchen he quickly handed David a beer before thrusting a carbonated beverage at her. "It's ginger ale," he announced even though she did not need edification. T'Alora nodded and took a small sip; the taste was off but not terribly unpleasant. She chalked it up to a minor replicator glitch and left well enough alone.

David and Jedrek began a heated discussion about the latest loss the Intergalactica football team had suffered and, uninterested in the topic, she decided to circulate about the room. T'Alora quickly discovered that she was the only Vulcan present and her attendance drew some not-so-subtle stares from the human guests she recognized from campus but did not know. She decided to retreat to the far corner near the bookshelf only to find it already occupied by a former acquaintance.

"Max?"

He looked up guiltily from the holo-vid disc he had been reading and his cheeks flushed crimson. "T'Alora? Hey, how are you?! It's been awhile!"

"It has been exactly 11.28 months since the evening of the dance where we last saw one another socially and I am well. Are you also well?"

He clumsily set the vid back on the shelf. "Y-Yeah, yeah I am."

As Max took a long sip through his straw T'Alora became conscious of the awkward silence hanging in the air between them. Casting about for a way to fill it she said, "I was unaware that you were acquainted with Jedrek."

"Jedrek?" Max parroted, furrowing his brow.

"Our host."

"Oh, Jed, right! I'm not—at least, not really. No, I got sexiled again and was headed to the library…"

Now it was her turn to be confused. "Sexiled?"

T'Alora had not thought it possible but Max's cheeks quickly turned an even deeper shade of crimson. "It's a combination of the words sex and exiled. Living with Magras is great but it's not without it's challenges and tonight was another night he decided to 'entertain'."

"I see."

Max shifted the cup to his other hand as he began to gesticulate. "So yeah, I was sexiled and going to go hole up in the library like I usually do when Kelly caught me and asked what I was up to. Her friend Sue knows Jed and they were on their way here when she invited me to tag along, so here I am."

"Indeed." She took a sip of her drink when he asked how she came to the gathering. "Jedrek is close friends with my boyfriend David and that is how we came to be invited."

"You've got a boyfriend now?" She nodded and dutifully pointed David out as he, Jed and now Rex carried on a deep discussion on the opposite side of the room. Max playfully nudged her in the shoulder and shot her a grin. "Not bad, T, not bad." She gave him a small smile just as he opened his mouth again. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know if Casey is…"

Suddenly the volume of the music dropped and everyone turned to stare at the girl standing on a chair in the center of the room (and she was certainly dressed to be noticed). Her short, red-orange hair protruded in well gelled spikes from her head, and she wore skimpy black clothing, heavy make-up, and her pierced navel was bared for all to see. The wholly human population on campus was small and yet T'Alora wondered how, after two years, this curious-looking woman had previously escaped her notice. "No offense, Jed, but listening to you and your buddies whine about the Federation Cup is getting old." Everyone laughed with her. "So I propose we play a drinking game instead!"

"That wouldn't exactly be fair, Valerie," Rex cried out, "Not all of us can hold our liquor like you!" There was more laughter from the raucous group of humans.

"Touché." Valerie tapped her chin, making a mock-display of being deep in thought. "How about another game then? Anybody up for a little truth-or-dare?"

A loud cheer of approval went around as T'Alora stared. Before she could inquire as to the rules of the game David came over and gently took hold of her elbow. "Don't worry, you'll pick it up quick enough, and I'll be right here." The group of fifteen quickly took seats on the floor in a haphazard circle, with Max seated on her left and David on her right. The instigator, Valerie, sat across from her. No sooner had the game commenced then David noticed she had drunk most of her ginger ale and handed the cup to Jed for a refill, causing her to miss most of the exchange between Valerie and another young woman.

"Truth," the brunette said simply.

"Bo-ring!" T'Alora watched Valerie sighed and roll her eyes while David pressed a fresh drink in her hands. The flame haired girl suddenly smiled wickedly as she looked the modestly-dressed girl up and down. "Oh, I've got a good one! Ilana, have you ever kissed a girl before? And I don't just mean a little peck on the cheek, I'm talking full on tongue action here!" She mimed the kiss and the group burst out laughing while Ilana cringed in embarrassment.

T'Alora was no closer to discovering the rules of the game then she had been five minutes previous and yet she found her companions' reactions just so…_curious_.

Ilana finally seemed to find her voice again. "N-n-no, no I haven't."

"I knew it! Well we all know you want to." Valerie winked and blew a kiss in her direction, laughing as Ilana's eyes widened in terror. "Don't worry, I'll find you later. Your turn!"

The game went on around and around and T'Alora quickly determined the rules. Many of the questions (and a few of the dares) were highly sexually charged. Tapping David on the shoulder she inquired as to whether or not this was the norm for the game and he just shrugged. "Nah, but it depends on the crowd. This one's perhaps a bit raunchier then most."

"MERCHANT!" Stunned, they both looked up into Wei-Shing's grinning, glassy-eyed face. "Your turn!"

David winked and smiled at her before calmly looking back to his friend. "Dare."

"OOOHHHH!" Valerie crowed. As she watched the girl rub her hands together gleefully T'Alora hoped her boyfriend knew exactly what he was doing.

Wei-Shing's grin broadened. "Ok!" He looked back over his shoulder at Rex for confirmation then said, "I dare you to do a tequilla shot…"

"Psh! That's easy."

"…off of T'Alora!"

Everyone in the room fell deathly silent and she saw the easy smile falter slightly on David's face. "Not cool, man, not cool."

His inebriated friend slung an arm around Valerie's shoulder, all the while still grinning stupidly. "Well if you're too chicken then…"

"I am _not_ chicken." A trill of real fear shot up T'Alora's spine; she had never heard David sound so cold before. "But what you're asking for isn't fair to T'Alora. She'd be made more uncomfortable by it then I would and I'm the one you dared."

Wei-Shing scoffed and rolled his eyes, completely ignorant of the shift in everyone's moods. "Yeah, yeah, whatever…"

"I will do it." Only years of Vulcan discipline stayed her hand from being slapped over her unthinking mouth as the group sucked in a collective gasp. She was not even certain as to what she had just agreed to when Valerie began to cheer.

David looked at her, eyes full of concern, and leaned in close. "Are you sure?" he whispered in her ear. His concern only reaffirmed her commitment and she nodded. "Ok…" He began to order everyone to move aside so that she could lie flat on the floor. Max was the only one to stay beside her while David went with Jedrek to the kitchen to secure the beverage.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

She glared at him before catching herself and swallowing down her scorn. "I do. David is procuring an alcoholic beverage which he will then consume off of my body."

He sighed and shook his head. "Oh T…"

Before she could inquire about his meaning Max backed off, allowing David to kneel beside her. "I'm going to pull your tunic up a little, ok?" he asked in a low, reassuring voice. Her midriff was soon bared and she felt the heat rise up into her face as she took in the fact that all eyes in the room were now on her exposed stomach. Still, she did not move. "Now I'm going to pour a little salt on you and then you're going to hold this lime in your mouth." T'Alora took a deep breath and nodded, willing herself to stay as still as stone.

Her eyes never left David's face as he positioned himself beside her, his tongue slowly sweeping over her skin causing goosebumps to pimple and her toes to curl. When he was through he reached for the shot, downed it in the span of a millisecond, then proceeded to straddle her as he reclaimed the wedge of lime from her mouth.

It was the most erotic 12.6 seconds of her entire life.

Grinning triumphantly, David winked at her before clambering off, then pulled her shirt back down and helped her to her feet. As she stood beside him he swept back an errant piece of her hair behind her ear. "Are you ok? You look all flushed. Let me get you some more ginger ale." He gave her a swift peck on the cheek then left the rest of the room to gawk at her.

"OH MY GOD!"

"I can't believe it, did you just see that?!"

"Never in a million years did I think I'd see the day…"

"THAT WAS UNBELIEVABLE!"

"Holy crap, how'd he get her to do that?!"

Loud clapping and wolf whistles helped get the room back to order and T'Alora looked up to see that Valerie was once again leading the way. "Impressive," she said with a nod in her direction, "But let's get back to the game."

After her little exhibition she was content to spend the remainder of the evening 'seeing and being seen' but the group had other plans. She was only just able to refresh herself with her drink when Jedrek called upon her.

"Truth or dare, T'Alora!" he called out teasingly.

Her options being what they were she shocked not only the other humans present but also herself. "Dare."

_Dare?_ _Dare?!_ There seemed to be a disconnect between her higher brain functions and her mouth this evening yet she could not determine the cause; and without any other recourse at her disposal T'Alora sat quietly, internally quaking at the thought of the judgment that was quickly coming to pass.

"Ok, T, I dare you…" little did he know the suspense was killing her as much as the rest of the people in the room "…to eat a piece of chocolate!"

They wanted to see her inebriated? At the thought of actual mental impairment she began to waver. If she complied there would be the after-effects of the chocolate to contend with. However, if she withdrew from the dare then based on their association she would be opening David up to ridicule from among his peers.

T'Alora glanced over at him, his eyes reassuring her that he would support her no matter her decision, and she decided to indulge…just this once. It could even conceivably be considered an experiment and in the name of scientific inquiry she would take the proffered piece and catalogue it's effects on her hybrid Vulcan/Human system. "You don't have to eat it all at once, you can nibble on it if you like." No sooner had Jedrek offered this advice then she had secured the entire 2.54-centimeter square piece in her mouth. Her tongue was awash in rich dark flavors—cocoa, vanilla, sugar, milk, a hint of spice—that all too soon vanished down her esophagus. She opened her eyes to find everyone in the room staring at her once more but when the chocolate's effects were not made immediately apparent they began to lose interest.

His eyebrows knit in concern, Max nudged her in the shoulder. "You alright?"

"I am quite well."

He crinkled his nose but did not argue with her assessment and left her well enough alone. The game rambled on to it's usual, unceremonious conclusion as people's attentions began to wander and they all broke up into smaller groups to gossip or dance or drink. T'Alora moved to stand against the wall and observe the proceedings, and it was this jerky, somewhat uncoordinated movement off the floor that first alerted her to the fact that the chocolate was now making itself manifest in her system. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, downing the entirety of her drink in the hopes that it would help bring down her rising temperature.

5.1… no, 5.11… roughly 5 minutes passed before T'Alora felt the full brunt of the chocolate. She was flushed and sweaty, she could not keep her thoughts in order, and the room was _moving—_not physically moving, she knew that, and all the people standing and lounging around were not helping, yet it still appeared to her that the walls and furniture were shifting as if cast in a perpetual transporter beam. Searching the room for any kind of an anchor she spotted David back in the kitchen, talking with Rex and another man and looking absolutely…_dreamy._ She felt the corners of her mouth tic up in a smile as he glanced her way, a smile that threatened to bloom into a full blown grin if she did not keep it in check, and at that thought she became further alarmed.

Air—she needed cool air.

Carefully picking her way around the furniture and people's limbs she found solace in the fact that many in attendance were in worse shape then herself. Gaining the hallway T'Alora braced herself against the wall and greedily gulped down the cool air, all the while imagining what she might look like to anyone watching. The thought alone caused her to let loose a short, sharp laugh that ended in a hiccup.

_More air_.

Now leaning heavily against the wall she walked down to the spare room and, after securing the door, quickly opened the top portion of every window so that the cool, New Vulcan, night air could make it's way inside. Once that was done T'Alora settled herself down in the lotus position in the middle of the sofa and tried to calm her wildly racing heart.

She had barely slipped into the first stage of meditation when the doors were re-opened. "Is this a private party or can I join in?" David's pleasant voice brought her quickly back to the surface as she felt his weight settle in beside her. He scrutinized her countenance, his face mere centimeters away from hers. "You alright there?"

"I am…fine."

The vague adjective brought a wide smile to his face and he cupped the side of her cheek. "You're more then fine." The kisses were slow, thoughtful, and T'Alora could almost feel her libido increasing with every caress of their lips. David guided her back until she was resting the full length of the sofa while he carefully positioned himself above her, his kisses now becoming more passionate.

Her thought processes slowed and she started to act on instinct, wrapping her arms around him and clinging to the back of his shirt. She moaned into him as David ground his pelvis against hers. "You like that, huh?" T'Alora began suckling and nipping at his ear lobe and he groaned in pleasure. "I knew it." His hand began migrating up under her tunic and this time she did not stop him; if anything his actions made her even more responsive.

Without warning he yanked back the cup of her bra, giving him full access to her breast, and his cool fingers began pinching and rubbing her sensitive nipple. She was starting to truly lose herself to the sensation when just as suddenly as it had appeared David's hand left her body and she distantly heard him fumble with what sounded like his belt buckle. "T'Alora, I want you so bad…"

He desired her physically—but did she really want to engage in carnal relations here? Now? Her hormones screamed _YES!_ while the last remaining vestiges of her logical brain told her that the situation and timing were not right. Mama told her that physically joining with someone for the first time was meant to be special and this—sitting on a second-hand futon in Jedrek's new apartment surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and a dozen people's coats—was by no means special. This was not what she wanted.

David's hands began pawing at her again, only this time they were slick with sweat as they trailed up and down her abdomen and kneaded her breasts. Her stomach now churned at his touch. Soon he started tugging at the waistband of her pants; her protests were lost as he pressed his lips harder against hers. T'Alora attempted to push David away only to find her limbs weak and limp. He pulled back the elastic of her panties …

The lights went up. "Oh! Sorry!"

David cursed at the intruder and pushed himself up while T'Alora fumbled to pull down her top. She tried to focus on the person who had walked in on them and saw Max try and beat a hasty only to walk right into the now closed door. "I didn't mean to…I didn't know…sorry!"

If he had not intervened…she did not allow herself a chance to complete that thought as the sounds of David zipping up his pants reached her ears. Spying her cloak over the back of the chair T'Alora darted forward. "I must depart," she declared and in one swift movement was off the sofa and heading for the door.

"What?! T, wait, no…!"

"T'Alora, I really don't think you're in any shape to…"

But the boys' cries were cut off by the pneumatics closing on the makeshift office as she tottered down the hall.

* * *

><p>"T!" Her shoulders shook hard and she fought her return to consciousness. "<strong>T!<strong>" This time the speaker was much more insistent and she blearily opened her eyes, finding herself slumped on the ground and propped up against a nearby building.

It was the second time in her life—other then her early childhood—that T'Alora could not account for a chunk of time in her day. She remembered moving down the hall of Jedrek's apartment, propelling herself off walls and furniture and stumbling out his front door relatively unnoticed, but how she made it down the stairs and out onto the street she could not recall; nor, for that matter, could she specify how much time had elapsed since then or what her current location was.

The realization of it all was most frightening.

Blinking rapidly she tried to bring the world into focus as she saw two of Max crouched down before her. "Good, you're awake. G-d you scared the hell out of me. Come on, let's get you back to the dorm." He wrapped an arm around her waist and quickly helped her to her feet where she leaned on him heavily for support.

"Where am I?"

Max checked his hold on her as he answered. "You're about halfway between Jed's place and campus. I got worried when you left like that and when David didn't go after you…well, it didn't seem right for you to go home alone."

"I—_hiccup!—_apologize for upsetting you and—and appreciate your assistance." Here she wobbled a bit and clutched her head, which was now throbbing. "I was—_hiccup!—_unaware that the chocolate would have such an intense and—_hiccup!—_immediate effect upon me."

Her friend let loose a half-hearted chuckle. "I'm sure that that itty bitty piece of chocolate was helped along by all that rum you had. You're going to have one _wicked_ hangover in the morning my friend. Now I get that you're Vulcan and all but you gotta remember that you're part Human too; that means you gotta watch out for yourself when you drink like that."

She stopped in the middle of the road and looked at him hard, trying to summon up her best imposing look. "I do not understand. My beverage of choice this evening was ginger ale, not rum. I do not drink alcohol."

"Oh yeah? Well you did tonight and you drank like a fish." Max tried to move her along again but she would not budge; not until he believed her and explained himself. He stared at her quizzically a moment before asking, "You really couldn't taste the rum? You had like four or five drinks and even _I _could smell how strong they were, so how come you didn't notice?"

"As I have never drank rum before I did not know what it smelled like or tasted like. I did, however, detect the difference in flavor in the ginger ale served to me this evening but I attributed it to a malfunction in Jedrek's replicator."

He cocked his head to the side as most humans did when parsing out her meaning. "T'Alora, are you saying that someone spiked your drink?"

She resisted the urge to laugh—at that moment the word 'spiked' amused her for some reason. "If I am interpreting the context clues correctly then yes, I believe my drink was 'spiked'."

"Fuck!" Max stood there, hand on his chin, occasionally glancing her way as he processed this information. "Any idea who it was?"

T'Alora blinked rapidly several times as she tried to clear her foggy state of mind. "I cannot deduce that information at this time."

He nodded and took hold of her by the shoulder, leading her back up the road toward the dorms. "Yeah, well, if I had to guess I'd say it was that hands-y boyfriend of yours."

One eyebrow ticked up. "Max, if I were any less certain of your character then I would believe that you are jealous; however, I am certain that you are not."

"I'm not, you and I are friends, it's just—," here he paused again and flung up his hands in exasperation, "I didn't like the way I saw him grabbing at you, and I get the impression that you're not sorry I walked in when I did." Max looked down at her with eyes full of sympathy. "You're a good person, T, you deserve better than him. He didn't even bother to come out after you for goodness sakes and you're a mess! What does that say to you?!"

His words rang true even in her addled brain yet she set her jaw tight and fixed him an angry glare. "I do not wish to continue this line of conversation any longer."

"Alright." He thrust his hands in his pockets and they covered the remaining distance in silence. That evening and for the next several days T'Alora wished she could forget the entirety of that evening as easily as she had those few moments outside of Jedrek's apartment.


	25. Chapter 25

**The Great Disappointment**

_** Ben's Pizzeria, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2281.111, 1945 hours.** She had so far successfully avoided David for the last six days, though she could not so easily banish him or that fateful evening from her thoughts. Her conflict over her feelings for him and their behavior that night put her in what Mama would term as a 'funk'. Over the intervening days the girls sensed that something was amiss as evidenced by Poleia giving her more personal space then usual and, after a few careful inquiries into the state of her well-being that were met with empty platitudes, Casey quickly followed suit. However, tonight appeared to mark the end of her solitude as Casey insisted upon a 'Girl's Night' to help lift their collective spirits before the end of the term.

She highly doubted the wisdom that a social evening would help rid her of her enduring shame.

Ben's was crowded that evening yet they happened upon a booth opening up mid-way along the far wall and were able to secure it as the busboy cleared the table. After their drink orders were placed Casey excused herself to use the restroom, leaving her and Poleia to take in the rest of the restaurant. It seemed louder this evening, though T'Alora believed that she was using the ambient noise to distract herself from her earlier train of thought, that of the events of the housewarming party; for it was while she was waiting for her soda she once again began ruminating on who was likelier to have spiked her drink, Jedrek, David or an as-yet undiscovered third party. Perhaps the outspoken Valerie had taken it upon herself to...

"Perhaps whatever thoughts are weighing so heavily on your mind would be better served shared with myself and Casey so that collectively we may resolve your predicament."

She looked up quickly at Poleia, tempering her surprise even as she seriously considered her offer. With a slight cant of her head T'Alora slowly began relaying the events of that evening as best she could.

Poleia considered the matter very, very carefully. "I believe…"

She did not hear another word as a louder, drunken male's voice reached her ears and captured her attention. "Oh man, we were only trying to help you out. And with all that rum I thought for _sure_, and then the chocolate-I mean she just walked right into that one!"

Casey returned just as she strained to hear Jedrek's voice over the din. "Hey guys, did you order yet?"

"Shhhh."

Behind her she barely heard Poleia bringing Casey up to speed when she caught Jedrek's voice once more. "I just…I just can't believe…I mean you were _soooooooooo_ close!"

"Yeah man," this time she recognized Wei-Shing's voice, "If that asshole hadn't walked in on you two you probably would've won hands DOWN!"

His proclamation was followed by a loud sigh and a huff of annoyance. "I can't believe you're all still so into this! It was a stupid bet made freshman year, it's not right, let it go!"

"Maybe, but there's _a thousand credits _on the line and he's the only one that's ever come close to winning the pot!"

A trill ran up her spine as Jedrek crowed. A bet regarding their relationship? She needed to hear the particulars but dreaded what she might learn. Her suspicions mounting, T'Alora listened close; if Rex, Jedrek and Wei-Shing were present then David was not far behind.

She was not kept waiting long.

"Yeah, well, I'm only close because you guys wouldn't know what to do with a Vulcan woman even if you had one!"

Her heart sank. David sounded so pleased with himself, so smug, as if the last 5.26 months spent in each other's company had meant nothing more to him then a passing fling. She had never felt so vulnerable before—and then her human boyfriend dealt her the ultimate blow.

"What y'all don't understand," he explained, "And what you'll never understand is that being with a Vulcan woman is like breaking in a horse; you need patience, lots of it, and a strong, steady hand—just like what my daddy taught me back on the farm. T'Alora's like other Vulcan women, she's a mustang, and in my experience they're the hardest horses to break. Now I know you thought you were helpin' last week but the truth is you got her spooked. You can't, and I can't stress this enough, you absolutely _can't_ rush these things. But don't worry though; give her time and I'm sure I'll be back in her pants before the semester's over."

David's mug clinked hard against the tabletop; between that sound and his heightened regional accent she knew he was inebriated. Still, she felt a single tear roll unbidden down her cheek. Their entire relationship had been a lie; not only that, but David had just admitted to all of this in a very public place, and worse still was the knowledge that she had almost unwittingly given him the very thing he wanted.

He had also compared her to livestock.

_ Live. Stock._

"Yeah, ok, _sure. _But since you're so close to winning the pot next round's on you buddy," Wei-Shing teased.

David laughed. "Whatever you say, _boys_."

Not wanting to hear anymore she turned back to her companions. Casey was stunned, her face absolutely ashen, while Poleia appeared as resolute as ever-only there was a certain angry fire in her eyes that she had never seen displayed before.

The crowded restaurant had suddenly grown uncomfortable and stifling.

T'Alora bolted to her feet, torn between confronting her former love and beating a hasty retreat. The decision was made for her as soon as she moved for no sooner had she taken one step away from her booth then she came face-to-face with David.

The happy smile he wore instantly vanished.

"T'Alora? Hey Baby, what're you doing—"

She tuned him out. She wanted nothing more then to slap that stupid smirk off his face and scream, scream at the top of her lungs until she shattered glass for blocks around. She wanted to knee him so severely in the groin that he never got up again, nor ever looked at another woman without cringing in agony.

But all that violence would be unseemly for a Vulcan, and so she quite literally turned the other cheek. Over the next two weeks David attempted to contact her numerous times via the comm system—he never tried to see her face-to-face—yet she never spoke to him again.

* * *

><p>However, what happened after she left Ben's establishment that evening became the subject of some of the greatest gossip in Vulcan Science Academy history. Though she was not immune to the whispers and grandiose re-tellings of the tale, she would not learn the truth until a much later date and from a most unlikely source: Poleia.<p>

It took David all of a second to recover his senses, by which point her friends had already scrambled behind her out of their booth. He moved to follow her when Casey imposed all 1.57 meters of herself in his path. She bodily shoved him back into an occupied table and sent him and the contents of someone's dinner onto the floor. It was then that all other activity in the restaurant stopped.

"YOU!" she shouted, pointing her finger square at his chest, "And your '_buddies_' can take your bet and shove it up your collective asses! You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as T so don't for one second even _THINK _about following her! You're a disgrace to the human race and you disgust me!"

David, now covered in someone else's spaghetti dinner, clambered back up onto his feet looking like a raging le-matya while Poleia coolly handed Casey her coat. He attempted to push past them again and Casey once more moved into his path, causing him to throw his hands up in exasperation. "Look, I don't know what you think is going on but this is between me and T'Alora," he said through gritted teeth. By now he had the support of his three drunken friends who had come to stand behind him.

"The hell it is! We heard everything, you jacka—…!"

"Casey." Poleia stopped her mid-sentence and placed a hand on her shoulder. Leveling her cool gaze at David she intoned, "You would do well to heed Casey's warning and not follow us or attempt to contact T'Alora ever again, or else."

David scoffed. "Oh yeah? Or else what?" He took another step forward and when she made no move to defend herself he chuckled. "See? You can't even follow through on a simple threat. You know, you're not as tough as you think you are, P—…"

His eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, his friends stumbling and failing to help break his fall. After administering the neck pinch Poleia simply returned to her normal attitude and impassively took in the scene, his friends and all other non-Vulcan patrons too stupefied to do anything but gawk. "He was warned." She turned and left without a backward glance.

Casey remained a moment longer, stepping forward and kicking David hard once in the scrotum for good measure before she too departed the restaurant.

* * *

><p>The remainder of the school year passed in a blur to T'Alora. Every day she moved by rote: wake up, shower, eat, attend classes, study; there were few, if any, derivations. However, she could not entirely forget the situation no matter how badly she wanted to. There were the rumors to contend with, of course, and stage whispers about the demise of their romance whenever she came into anyone's view who knew so much as one iota of their tale, but as much as she could she turned a deaf ear on them all.<p>

She was neither surprised nor relieved when Sa-mekh-al came to collect her at the end of the semester, inviting her to spend a week at his home before the _Enterprise_ was near enough for her parents to retrieve her. No doubt Mama and Sa-mekh had been warned of the situation ahead of time by Casey and, with that knowledge in mind, did not trust her to safely travel all that way alone given the brief instance of self-harm in her past. It had only occurred then because she was under extreme stress.

Then again, this break-up certainly qualified as stressful.

Though repeated overtures were made to her to 'let it out' she remained tight-lipped on the incident; not even Mama could get through no matter how hard she tried. T'Alora remained in this attitude for more then a month after her return home until one night when Sa-mekh unexpectedly stopped by her room.

He knocked and entered, quickly crossing the space to sit on the edge of her bed as she completed her work on-screen. She turned to Sa-mekh only to see him indicate that he wished her to move closer. Silently they sat side-by-side, staring out the viewport for 2.1 minutes before he spoke.

"I erroneously believed in your case that space was what was necessary, yet I have recently discovered that time is not the balm for your particular wounds as I had hoped." He let loose an uncharacteristic sigh and she saw traces of sadness in his eyes. "What you carry with you is a difficult thing, T'Alora."

"What is, Sa-mekh?"

"The burden of a broken heart and the loss of a future." He turned to her as she gasped aloud, expressing so succinctly that which she had carried with her for several weeks. "It is a disappointment I never wanted my children to have to experience."

His sincerity was without question, but more then that T'Alora understood that her sa-mekh was speaking from experience as well. He had been hurt this deeply too? Not by Mama, certainly—then there had been another before her? Whoever she was T'Alora's only thought now was to wonder at how he had withstood the pain. She was barely functioning as she was and her interpersonal relationship with David had been relatively brief. Unbidden, the tears pooled in her eyes and her attempts to blink them back only saw them multiply instead. Steady breathing soon turned to great wracking sobs as swells of unacknowledged emotion threatened to swallow her whole. T'Alora felt as though she were all alone, traveling aboard the _Enterprise _with no crew, no engines and no communication. She was adrift and the stars were closing in.

Panic—a feeling which she was only briefly acquainted with—began to overtake her at the enormity of it all, when suddenly she was enveloped by her sa-mekh's strong arms. "You are not alone, T'Alora, nor are you unworthy of love." He pulled her in tighter and she rested her cheek against his chest, crying for the first time over the end of her relationship as he held her close.


	26. Chapter 26

**Shuttle Lessons**

_**U.S.S. Enterprise, **_**2281.194, 1547 hours.** He lay flopped down on his belly on the bed, twisting and turning his upper body in response to the game controller in his hands.

"Se'tak?"

"Hmm?"

He did not even bother to look up at her and T'Alora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "If you are not otherwise engaged I ask that you accompany me on a brief…" she searched for the right word without outright lying "…errand."

"What?" Before she could repeat herself the music from the game signaled that his character had met an untimely end. "Aww man! T, I was so close! What'd you make me do?!"

She quirked an eyebrow up at him but said nothing; she knew she had not directly impacted his virtual demise. After a brief pause (which Se'tak used to restart the game) she said, "If you do not wish to join me then that is fine as well; it is of no consequence to me."

T'Alora did an about face and headed for the door, making it well into the hallway before her brother scrambled after her. Something—whether it was her nonchalance or her curt dismissal—piqued his interest and he came hopping out of the room on one foot, desperately trying to tug his boot on while the other shoe lay tucked in the crook his arm. "Ok, ok, I'm coming." She paused and waited for him as he leaned against the wall to get the second boot on. "Now tell me again where we're going?"

* * *

><p><strong>Nine hours and forty two minutes earlier…<strong> "Sa-mekh?"

He set the PADD aside and turned Se'tak's way. "Yes, sa-fu?"

T'Alora sighed inwardly, knowing what was to come. As she slowly overcame her grief she became more aware of her family's affairs and so knew of Se'tak's request even before he made it, for it was the same case he had been pleading for the last thirteen days. She may as well have written the script for her brother she had listened to him that many times.

Se'tak set his spoon aside, looking hopeful. "I was wondering if maybe we could schedule some shuttle time this afternoon, or maybe this evening? I've…"

Sa-mekh held up a hand. "I must stop you there sa-fu, as I cannot accommodate your shuttle tutorial this evening or any other evening for the foreseeable future; not until the Captain is sufficiently recovered and able to reclaim his duties."

"But you've been saying that for two weeks _and_ you promised you'd help me! I've only got two months left before the junior licensing exam and I _need_ sixteen more hours with a licensed pilot!"

Mama groaned and rolled her eyes as she passed Selas the plate of biscuits. "Se'tak, stop badgering your sa-mekh—can't you see how busy he is? He said he'll help you when he can."

"Ugh, this _SUCKS_! All you ever do is work!" Flinging himself away from the table Se'tak headed to his room, muttering under his breath the whole time. Now much more subdued, everyone else ate in silence until Sa-mekh left for the Bridge 4.89 minutes later.

She waited until the door shut behind him to ask her question. "Mama, if Sa-mekh is unavailable to supervise Se'tak then why do you not instruct him yourself?"

Mama snorted into her coffee mug, though the source of her amusement escaped T'Alora completely.

"She tried," Selas finally said, a smirk of his own playing on his lips. "And if Se'tak's stories are to be believed it did not go well. He refused all of her subsequent offers, hence why Mama has stopped making them."

"Truly?" Although she knew otherwise T'Alora still liked to believe that her parents could succeed at every task they put their minds to.

Mama continued laughing while Selas set his milk down and nodded. "His main complaint was that she kept tensing up and grabbing the armrests as if he were about to crash, despite the fact that they were flying in open space. He said she also made him stop short several times and gave him incorrect docking instructions as they returned to the shuttle bay."

Shocked, she turned to see her mother laughing the criticism away as she cleared her breakfast dishes. "I hate to admit it but that last part is true; although I absolutely did _not_ have a death grip on the shuttle's 'Oh Jesus!' bar like Se'tak says!" Seeing T'Alora's further confusions she added, "Sweetie, I'm a Communications Officer, not a pilot; if I'm at the helm then you know it's a desperate situation. Your sa-mekh has more flight experience then I do and that's why he's the more…"

"…logical choice," T'Alora finished for her.

Mama smiled. "Yes. And that's that." She quickly kissed each of them on the crown of their heads before heading for the door. "Now I've got to run. Have a good day you two; I'll see you both after shift."

She remained at the table for several minutes lost in thought while Selas cleaned up after himself and collected his supplies. T'Alora was roused out of her reverie with a soft shake of her shoulder, her brother extending her palette and brushes to her. "Are you prepared for our art class?"

She shot him a small smile and ruffled his hair, briefly envying him for it's straightness and texture. "Yes, pi'sa-kai, I am prepared. Let us depart."

* * *

><p><strong>1304 hours. <strong>Their work with the oil paints was messier then T'Alora had anticipated and she and Selas were later then usual entering the Mess for lunch. Although they had missed the usual influx of people for the noon meal she reflexively scanned the room for her parents only to find them absent. Unconcerned, she quickly went through the line and selected her meal before moving to a table near the viewport and staring out into the galaxy.

As she waited for her brother she heard great raucous laughter coming from the doorway and turned to see John, Kirby, and Rebecca enter. Selas would no doubt have heard them also and would likely want to join his friends rather then eat with her, despite overtures to the contrary. Besides, what conversation could she make with four pre-teens? She would be an unwelcome addition to their party and akin to a chaperone in their eyes. Deciding to spare them all from the awkward social predicament she stole half of her sandwich and an apple off her tray and promptly exited the Mess.

Without a specific trajectory in mind she ambled along the corridors of the ship, munching on her meager lunch, before deciding to turn towards home. She stepped into the turbolift expecting it to be empty only to find it occupied by, of all people, her mother.

Mama let her PADD fall to her side and her face split into a smile. "Hey T!" As the lift started again and she made no attempt at changing it's trajectory her mother ventured, "You heading home too?"

"Yes." T'Alora looked her over with one eyebrow raised in interest. "Mama, are you unwell?"

"I'm fine."

They stood side-by-side in silence, T'Alora burning with curiosity over why her mother was off-duty so early. Her unspoken question was answered by a complete non-sequitur. "Lieutenant Lindley's wife is expecting their first baby next month."

"Indeed?"

"He came to me to see if there were any extra hours and I gave him the rest of my shift. He wants to be able to spend as much time at home after the birth as he can." Mama stopped and quirked an eyebrow at her. "That satisfy you, my little cat?"

She smirked inwardly. "Yes."

"Good. Now where's Selas? I thought you two were spending the day together."

T'Alora nodded as they exited the lift. "Selas and I were going to spend the afternoon in each other's company, however, we encountered his friends in the Mess and I decided to take my leave so that I would not be a 'fifth wheel'."

"I see." They rounded the bend. "So what are you going to do at home?"

"I have no specific plans once we arrive at our quarters."

At that Mama seemed to light up from the inside. "Well then why don't you do something with Se'tak this afternoon?"

She stopped short and stared at her mother quizzically. "Mama?"

"What? Don't give me that look!"

"What look?"

Here Mama glared at her. "The look that you and your sa-mekh give me like I've suddenly gone and sprouted three heads! All I'm saying is that you and Se'tak hardly ever _do_ anything together…"

"That is because we hardly have any interests in common," T'Alora interjected. It was true; aside from sharing the same parents they indulged in almost none of the same activities. She preferred kal-toh; Se'tak preferred laser tag. He had his pick-up basketball, she had her swimming. She did not see the logic in his video games; he dragged his feet whenever she wanted to spar. They wore vastly different styles of clothing, conducted themselves differently in public, and ate different foods, _that_ was how disparate their natures were.

Besides, it was not as if she had purposefully excluded her brother from joining her and Selas on their ventures, just that he had opted out of them.

But Mama was not hearing any of that. She huffed and frowned. "That's beside the point. You and Selas always go off and find something to do and Se'tak gets left out. How do you think that makes him feel?"

Now it was T'Alora's turn to heave a soft sigh. There she went again with the 'feeling' questions—she always knew how difficult those were for her to answer. "I do not know how Se'tak _feels_; but, I do know that he has not verbally expressed any dissatisfaction over the state of our relationship, nor has he made any recent overtures to include me in his affairs, therefore I do not see why the status quo need change now."

Mama heaved a great sigh and rolled her eyes. "Just because he doesn't say anything doesn't mean he's not upset; _and_ you're the eldest so more often then not it falls to you to take the initiative. Right now Se'tak's going through some things, same as…" She was intrigued by that—as far as she knew her brother lived quite the 'happy-go-lucky' life—but Mama stopped herself short and let the thought trail off unfinished. "Just think about it, ok? For me?"

They continued the rest of the way to their quarters in silence, T'Alora ruminating on all that her mother had just imparted. She stood resolutely before the door and as Mama palmed the lock a flash of brilliance struck her so hard and fast she immediately did an about face and walked briskly back toward the turbolift.

"T? T, where are you going?"

* * *

><p>It took quite a bit of maneuvering—she called in as many favors as she dispensed—yet somehow T'Alora made it all come together that very afternoon. Devising a strategy with which to drag Se'tak away from his video game required even more cunning.<p>

So she decided to stretch the truth a little.

After a quick knock she entered his room. "Se'tak?"

"Hmm?"

T'Alora refrained from rolling her eyes as he remained preoccupied with his game. "If you are not otherwise engaged I ask that you accompany me on a brief…" she hesitated "…errand."

"What?" He dropped the console and threw up his hands. "Aww man! T, I was so close! What'd you make me do?!"

She paused and said nothing while he re-booted the device. After 5.3 seconds she replied, "If you do not wish to join me then that is fine as well; it is of no consequence to me." Hoping that her gamble worked she headed for the door and was well into the hallway before the pneumatics flew back and she heard Se'tak follow.

"Ok, ok, I'm coming." He hopped about on one foot as he pulled his boot on then switched to the other foot. "Now tell me again where we're going?"

She continued on down the hall with a small, proud grin on her face that he could not see. "I did not previously state our destination."

"What?" He jogged to catch up with her. "T, come on, quit playin' around. What are we doing?"

"Wait and see, pi'sa-kai, wait and see."

They traversed nearly the whole of the _Enterprise_ before entering the shuttle bay and as they strode through the doors she could sense Se'tak's increasing bewilderment. "T, what are we doing here?"

"I have secured shuttle 7 for our use for the next 1.25 hours."

Her brother stopped suddenly and went slack-jawed. "What?"

She stepped forward and opened the door to the shuttle. Glancing back over her shoulder she asked, "Is there something wrong with your auditory pathways?"

"No." Se'tak scrambled aboard behind her as she settled down into the co-pilot's seat and buckled in. Again her brother paused in the doorway to the cockpit. "Now what are you doing?"

"I am strapping in for take-off. I recommend that you also strap in so that you do not injure yourself." She glanced over and saw that she had achieved the intended effect as his jaw hung wide open in disbelief. It-_amused_ her to see her younger brother so discombobulated, and by her own hand. T'Alora watched as Se'tak's eyes darted from the pilot's chair to her and back again in incomprehension. "Se'tak…"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He settled in and stared at the controls, still in awe.

"Are you familiar with the start-up sequence?"

"Yes."

"Then I suggest you initiate it lest we waste time here in the shuttle bay when you could be gaining experience for your practical."

Her brother beamed as he brought the shuttle to life and contacted control to request permission for take-off.

* * *

><p>"You have handled yourself well."<p>

He grinned as he turned the shuttle back around, beginning the nice, easy trek back to the ship. "Thanks."

She did not know why it surprised her to discover this but Se'tak was a natural at the helm. Within twenty minutes of their flight T'Alora had no new knowledge to impart and instead relaxed into her seat to better enjoy the ride. They continued on in that manner until the tiny speck that was the _Enterprise_ began to grow ever larger in their view screen.

"You kind of forget how beautiful she is," Se'tak declared gesturing at the ship. "I mean, she's our home, but to others she's something else entirely, something really…_majestic_." He grinned as the _Enterprise_ continued to come into view. "She really is something else, isn't she?"

T'Alora nodded. "Indeed. That is one of the main reasons why she remains the flagship of Starfleet."

"Yeah. Sometimes it's easy to forget that; can't see the forest for all the trees, or something like that." He let out a soft contented sigh. "Hey, uh, in case I forget…thanks for doing this, T."

She turned and arched an eyebrow at him. "For doing what?"

"You know, taking me out, the shuttle lesson, all of it. I know you'd rather be doing something else."

"That is not true, however, you are most welcome." As she sat back against the headrest she tentatively checked the sibling bond and was surprised to find it more open then it had previously been. There was a warmth suffused in it that had been missing and as she studied it further T'Alora was again surprised to discover that her brother actually had been having a difficult time of things as Mama had intimated (almost as rough as she herself had had, or so it seemed) and was a little jealous of her closeness with Selas.

"Hey." He vigorously scratched the side of his head, growing irritated by her prying.

"I apologize, Se'tak," and as she retreated away from his personal head space she was pleased to discover that he knew exactly what she was apologizing for and accepted it—and her—wholeheartedly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I based this segment off an experience I had teaching my brother to drive; I also thought this story could use a little lightness after everything blew up last chapter. Speaking of Chapter 25, thank you so much for the reviews and PMs! They really made my day!


	27. Chapter 27

**The Trouble**

* * *

><p><strong>NOTICE<strong>

** The Lercarfer Dormitory will be unable to house new and returning students to the Vulcan Science Academy ****for the upcoming semester due to recently discovered structural issues. Alternative housing arrangements are being made for those students who do not otherwise choose to reside off-campus. If you require assistance in securing new lodgings contact the Student Housing Office at +31 0978 5555 x3. Room designations will be given on a first come, first serve basis.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>U.S.S. Enterprise, <strong>_**2281.213, 0835 hours.** T'Alora read the notice in her in-box over again, this time with her parents flanking her on either side. The information was right there in front of her yet she simply could not wrap her head around it.

"_Structural issues_?!" Mama screeched. "Are they trying to tell me that I let my baby live for _two years_ in a building that could've come falling down around her ears at any moment?!"

"I believe that that is expressly what they are not stating," Sa-mekh replied, equally outraged in his own muted way. He looked the notice over again and straightened up, preparing to quit the room, but not before adding, "You would do well to contact the student housing office as soon as possible unless you wish to spend the semester living with your sa-mekh-al."

"Understood."

Mama remained over her shoulder, fuming hard as she stared at the screen. "I can't believe them! The nerve of that school…I'm going to write them a letter and give them a piece of my mind!" She stormed out.

Now alone again in her room T'Alora closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to get herself centered. She began to consider the deeper ramifications of the notice. As it were the dormitories in the school system were already filled to capacity and the notice did not mention any new construction taking place on grounds. Most likely students would be crowded into the rooms that were available _or _they would be put up in the local hotel; and while T'Alora wished to remain with her roommates the odds of them finding appropriate accommodations under these circumstances were 1,078:1.

She was about to contact the housing office to make her request when the comm. rang; she had no sooner accepted the transmission then Casey's face popped up on-screen and her friend began chatting away without preamble.

"Oh good, you're up! I wanted to call earlier but then I was afraid I'd wake the whole family up and I didn't want to do that; besides, if I had called earlier you wouldn't have seen the notice—you did see the notice, right?"

T'Alora blinked. It was the first opportunity she had been given to speak. "Yes."

"Good. Now hold on a sec, I've got Poleia on the other line."

Casey's fingers flew over the keys and after a few seconds delay both her friends were before her. Behind Poleia, T'Alora saw Ferlan in profile, working away on a PADD. "Greetings, T'Alora."

"Greetings, Poleia. I trust that you have been apprised of the situation regarding our dormitory this semester?"

"Yes, and I am in agreement with Casey that we should make all attempts to be housed together."

"In that I am also in agreement with you."

Casey's grin broadened. "Great! Now that that's all out of the way let me tell you what I've heard." She took a quick sip from a steaming mug off-screen and continued her narrative. "Ok, so I've got this great connection at the Terran Student Liaison Office, Justine, who I called to get the 411 the minute I heard Lercarfer was closed."

"411?" Poleia asked.

"It is old Earth slang," T'Alora answered automatically, "Referring to a telephone number one would dial when in need of information."

"Understood. Continue, Casey."

"Right. So I asked Justine just what exactly was going on—I mean, how could the VSA get away with putting us up in there if the building was unsound? And with that notice going out like that the Council was just begging for a lawsuit. Anyway she wouldn't tell me for the longest time, all she would say was that none of us were ever in danger, but I wouldn't let up and when I finally got the whole story out of her…well, you're never going to believe what it is!" In stark contrast to their current predicament Casey sounded almost gleeful; meanwhile T'Alora and Poleia waited patiently for her to conclude her tale. "You guys, this is where you actually try and guess what the problem is."

"I was under the impression that you were speaking rhetorically."

"As was I."

Casey's face fell a little. "Oh. Well I wasn't. Anyhow, it's Tribbles!"

Poleia's eyebrows flew up into her hairline; even T'Alora thought she had heard her incorrectly. "Come again?"

"Tribbles! Our dorm is completely, 100%, filled-to-the-brim with Tribbles! They think one stowed away in a summer student's luggage or something and the whole situation just exploded from there…"

Poleia blanched and T'Alora's eyes widened. Ferlan immediately ceased his work and came to stand behind his adun'a on-screen, voicing his concern before either one of them were able to. "This is terrible news…"

Casey was still giggling. "Oh come on, Ferlan, you're exaggerating! I Zikapedia'd them; they're cute, fuzzy, little, cooing fur balls!"

His eyes narrowed. "I am Vulcan, I do not exaggerate, and Tribbles are not 'cute'; they are dangerous. They are not native creatures to this planet and once fed even the tiniest of morsels they begin to reproduce with abandon. If even one of them were to escape the confines of Lercarfer not only would the VSA be at risk of collapse but the entire city of New Shi'Khar would likely follow suit and fall within 9.83 days."

"Say what?!" she screeched. "Fall in less then 10 days?! The nets said nothing about that!"

He nodded solemnly. "This is why the animals are outlawed throughout the Federation. If the situation at Lercarfer were to go unchecked the entire planet would be overrun in 59.26 days' time, rendering our people homeless once more."

"Oh my God!" She threw her hands over her mouth.

"Did your contact state what was being done to contain the problem?"

"No, no," Casey said, vigorously shaking her head. "All she told me was that the dorm was under lockdown. I…I can't believe how serious this is; I mean I thought finding a new place to live was going to be our biggest problem!" Ferlan turned and walked away from the screen.

"That is a source of concern for us as well," T'Alora replied.

Poleia, having finally recovered her equilibrium, added, "I believe that finding a temporary residence off-grounds is our best solution seeing as how we desire to remain together, assuming that the Tribbles do not overrun New Shi'Khar. As soon as we received the notice Ferlan and I began discussing what options were available and we are currently conducting a search of all three bedroom apartments located within a 10 block perimeter of the campus."

"Isn't that going to get a little price-y?"

"I have also taken cost into consideration and further restricted the search so that the yearly rent, when split equally among the three of us, will be less than or equal to that of our previous room and board on-campus."

Ferlan, who had once again returned to Poleia's side, interjected, "And while you three were speaking I have discovered three viable living arrangements for your coming school year that fit those parameters. If you will permit me…" within seconds three New Vulcan real estate listings appeared on-screen, only for one to be abruptly taken down. "It would appear that that property is now taken."

Greatly surprised by this turn of events, T'Alora quickly reviewed the listings before they too disappeared. The first property cost 2500 credits a month and was on the second floor of a three-story building. It contained 111.48 square meters of space and was in a prime location five minutes from campus.

However, it was the second property that, despite it's higher cost and greater distance, truly piqued her interest. This apartment was located on the fourth floor of a four-story building and was a ten minute walk to the VSA; in addition to the basic amenities the property also contained an additional 13.97 square meters of space then the first one _and_ had a rooftop patio that one entered onto by way of a door in the kitchen. For this property the landlord was asking 2700 credits a month.

Casey clapped her hands and squealed. She quickly minimized the first listing and expanded the second. "OOOHH! Let's take this one! We can have parties on the deck and _everything_, it'll be perfect!"

T'Alora could not help the small smirk at her friend's enthusiastic response. "I concur that this space is more then adequate for our needs."

"Agreed," Poleia said. "I propose we contact the landlord immediately before anyone else has a chance to steal the property away from us."

At this T'Alora rose an eyebrow. "I must first consult with my parents before signing a lease agreement." Her friends both began talking over one another.

"T, come on! You're…"

"We cannot afford the delay that…"

"…almost 20 years old, surely you can…"

"…such a discussion could cost us. Also, I am reminded of…"

"…decide for yourself where you want to live! This place is absolutely _per—…_"

"…Casey's frequent repetition of the adage, 'It is better to beg for forgiveness then ask for permission'…"

"…—_fect_, you said so yourself, so let's do this already before it's gone!"

"…and I believe it is quite appropriate that you do so in this circumstance."

T'Alora closed her eyes to the din and mentally calculated the pros and cons of such a decision. It was unusual to hear Poleia quote Casey back to her but in this instance she was correct—the advice was apt. If she hesitated much longer they might lose out on the apartment. "I concede to your logic; let us contact the landlord."

"YES!"

Ferlan now sat beside his adun'a and brought the landlord's New Shi'Khar number up on-screen. While they waited Casey could not sit still for all the excitement and when an agreement had been struck and the paperwork electronically signed she said, "Perhaps Lercarfer being closed wasn't the worst thing to happen after all."

* * *

><p>9.21 hours later, at the conclusion of their work shift, she broke the news to her parents. Mama's reaction was more volatile than she had predicted.<p>

"You did **WHAT **now?!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Are there any artists out there who would be interested in drawing or doing a photo manip of the S'chn T'gai kids now that they're older? Linstock did a GREAT job with her photo manips of the kids when they were younger based on "S'chn T'gai Family Drabbles" and I'd love to see what people think T'Alora, Se'tak and Selas look like as teens/young adults. I have great mental pictures of them but I have ZERO artistic ability whatsoever; I'd also try my hand at some sort of photoshop-type-manipulation if I could but I can barely operate MS Paint. If no one's interested than no biggie, just thought I'd put it out there and see. Thanks again to all my readers for making this Star Trek series such a success!

Also, if you're interested in seeing Linstock's work visit: www dot deviantart dot com, search for Linstock and the piece is entitled: "S'chn T'gai Family". You might recognize this story icon when you see it. What can I say? She did a great job! = D


	28. Chapter 28

**Living Arrangements**

**_ 12 Trelevin Street, Apartment 4, New Shi'Kahr, _2281.280, 2200 hours. **The Tribbles did not escape from Lercarfer as Ferlan envisaged and the trio were able to move into their new dwelling with relative ease; relative being the key word because, as they quickly discovered in the ensuing days, even with all their careful planning there were still a few 'hiccups' as they settled in. Their kitchen had several sets of mismatched plates, bowls and cups, but not a bit of silverware; the vid screen for the living room was delivered on-time but no wall mount had been ordered to hang it up; and the first electricity payment was missed, resulting in a 6.4 hour power outage until the company had the credit chit for the balance.

After that all went well until seven weeks into the first semester of their third year when a metaphorical wrench was thrown into their new living arrangement.

T'Alora sat in the living room reading, a throw blanket from Mama casually draped over her lower half, while outside a rare storm howled and battered at the glass. After a fashion Poleia rose and crossed the room to increase the temperature on the thermostat to compensate for the damp that was felt acutely by all Vulcans. As she stood staring out the window she remarked, "The meteorologists predict that this storm cell will pass out of our area around 0100 hours."

"Good. I would not to travel to campus tomorrow under these conditions." No sooner had T'Alora spoken then there was a loud rapping at the door. Both women looked to one another then moved as one to answer.

Stalvek stood before them, his heavy robes dripping wet and his hair plastered to his forehead. "Greetings," he said through shivering teeth, "Is Casey at home?"

"She is here." Poleia took his sodden cloak while T'Alora pulled out a kitchen chair and ushered him inside to dry off. "She is in her room practicing for an oral exam."

"Is she expecting you?" T'Alora asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

He shook his head sending droplets of water everywhere. "I apologize for the mess. No, Casey and I had no standing engagements this evening; however, there is something very important I must discuss…"

"Oh, I am _parched_!" the girl in question cried as she burst out of her room. "T, tell me your mother gets this thirsty too when speaking Andorian because I feel like a camel with all the water I'm..." Stalvek rose from his seat and Casey stopped in her tracks, her whole face lighting up at the sight of him. For a split-second T'Alora thought her friend might rush into her boyfriend's arms and kiss him to death but, mindful of her friends' sensibilities, she refrained. "Stalvek, what're you doing here? It's terrible out and you look like a…"

"Etek ki'salv saternayan," he confessed, so distraught he reverted back to his native tongue. "T'nash-veh sa-mekh leh fez-puma wu."*

"WHAT?!" This time she did head straight for him and Stalvek welcomed her with open arms, encircling her so completely one could only see the top of her blonde head. "But how? We were so careful…"

Holding her appeared to anchor him as Stalvek calmly replied, "After our initial discovery during your first year my sa-mekh believed he had effectively ended our relationship and so put it out of his mind; but this semester he began to hear whispers about us and started to have his doubts. He hired a private investigator to follow me and this evening confronted me with the evidence collected by that person. He stated that I must give you up once and for all and when I refused he declared that I was no son of his and cast me out of the house."

Casey quickly let loose a string of muffled profanities in a variety of languages, only half of which T'Alora understood and all which were not fit to be repeated save for her final exclamation of 'that rat bastard!'. Gazing into his face, her eyes glossy with tears, she asked, "Didn't your mother try and stop him?"

Though he attempted to hide the emotion he looked greatly aggrieved. "No, she did not." Stalvek continued to stroke her hair, attempting to ease the distress she was expressing on his behalf, yet his eyes bored holes into the wall on the opposite side of the room. "She has sided with Sa-mekh in this matter."

"Oh Sweetie." Casey squeezed him tighter, commiserating with him. He was now an orphan, same as Casey, even though his parents were still living; and perhaps, T'Alora mused, his situation was made even worse as Stalvek had no other relations to turn to. "It'll be ok, we'll figure something out together, I promise."

"Indeed. I do not know what the future now holds but with you at my side I know I will be ready for it."

It was very touching to see him so in earnest and all three women were more then ready to render any aid necessary, inviting him to stay in their apartment until other arrangements were made. The following days were even more of a trial for him as Stalvek discovered that many of his friends had abandoned him, either out of distaste for his chosen mate or fear of reprisal from his sa-mekh; his tuition had also been revoked by his family, casting him unceremoniously out of the VSA just two semesters shy of graduation.

Throughout it all Casey remained faithfully by his side precisely as she had pledged and T'Alora had no doubt that one day they would be bonded and live a long and happy life together.

* * *

><p><em><strong>12 Trelevin Street, Apartment 4, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2281.302, 1744 hours. **After twenty-two days of this new arrangement T'Alora's empathy was fast turning to frustration. Stalvek may have been a star pupil and model citizen previously but as a houseguest he was infuriating and as his transgressions mounted her patience rapidly dwindled.

He was utterly helpless. He could mentally calculate the square root of pi to the eightieth numeral in 6.7 seconds but did not know how to operate a refresher or cook his own meals; and when confronted with these seemingly mundane obstacles Stalvek opted to seek instruction from one of the three women (usually T'Alora) at the most inopportune time. He did nothing to contribute to the running of the household, financially or otherwise, and often used the last of an item or article without replacing it himself _or_ indicating that it needed to be replaced (leaving her stranded on the toilet seat not once but _twice_). Add to this Poleia's twin sisters, Pera and Pana, who had also descended on the apartment for the last five days for a previously scheduled visit and the once spacious abode felt quite crowded.

That evening T'Alora entered to find her one-time sanctuary in utter chaos. Stalvek had over-filled the refresher with detergent and the soap bubbles lapped up against her feet in small waves as soon as she opened the door. Pana and Pera, who had previously been in the process of making dinner, were consumed with helping him contain and clean up the mess while Casey assisted them and quietly stroked his bruised ego as he 'sulked' in a far corner. As T'Alora carefully picked her way toward the living area the smell of smoke hit the air and the girls abandoned their clean-up efforts and flew to the cook-top to try and salvage the burning dinner.

And while all of this was unfolding Stalvek remained as unhelpful as before, standing in his sad attitude on the opposite side of the room.

T'Alora was so livid she saw green. Brushing past them all she stuffed a change of outfit, toiletries and books in a knapsack and strode back out again, headed for her sa-mekh-al's where she could spend the night in peace and quiet.

* * *

><p>She returned the following day at mid-morning to find the apartment empty and set back to rights. Breathing a sigh of relief she sagged against the door and allowed herself to relax until a figure stepped into the hall. Quickly closing her eyes, T'Alora inhaled deep to try and keep hold of her composure while Stalvek made his way toward her.<p>

"There is an important matter I would like to discuss with you," he declared once she re-opened her eyes. With a sweep of his arm he gestured toward the kitchen. "Perhaps we could have this conversation out on the patio?"

She nodded, dropped her bag, and headed out; he followed a few steps behind and made sure to retrieve a pitcher of juice and two glasses along the way. T'Alora took a seat under the pergola and lifted her face up toward the sun, hoping all the while that she could get through this conversation with Stalvek while keeping a cool head and a civil tongue.

"Would you care for some lemonade?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you." She accepted the proffered glass and took a small sip, wincing almost immediately. It was the most sour, concentrated drink she had ever been offered. She looked up in time to see Stalvek mimicking her facial expression before picking up the pitcher and examining it curiously.

"I do not understand what is wrong with this beverage. I squeezed all sixty-three lemons myself this morning."

Ah; therein lay the problem. "Did you neglect to include water and sugar in the mixture?"

Stalvek blinked at her owlishly. "I was unaware that those ingredients were necessary for lemonade."

"They are."

"I see." He set the pitcher back down and pushed his glass away toward the center of the tabletop before folding his hands in his lap. "T'Alora, I…I find that I am uncertain as to how to start this conversation." She did not supply him with any further words but rather studied him curiously, as it was the first time she recalled Stalvek displaying a lack of self-confidence. "We are not well-acquainted with one another despite my long-standing relationship with Casey."

"No, we are not," she conceded.

"Therefore I suspect that my upbringing within my clan was very different from yours. Your ko-mekh works outside of the home and alongside your sa-mekh, correct?"

T'Alora resisted the urge to furrow her brow. She knew that Stalvek was very well aware of just who her parents were. "Yes."

He nodded. "My ko-mekh does not have any outside employment; she and sa-mekh believe that her place is within the home tending to all the domestic duties including rearing us children. In retrospect I believe that this separation of household responsibilities has been detrimental to me." The admission stunned her and upset him as he began rhythmically tapping the tabletop with one inordinately long finger. It was rare for Vulcans to converse so openly on clan matters, especially when they were from rival clans. "I understand that we are also both the eldest in our families, and that you have two younger brothers. I myself have five younger brothers." Stalvek paused for a beat then added, "Casey has mentioned that your brothers do not adhere to the tenets of Vulcan conduct as strictly as you do."

She wanted to cringe at the slight but instead lifted her chin a millimeter higher. "That is correct; Se'tak emotes freely, frequently, and oftentimes exuberantly, while Selas is more reserved—though he does not refrain from showing emotion when he believes it is warranted."

"I understand."

T'Alora highly doubted that he did understand though she refrained from contradicting him outright on the matter. The silence stretched on. "Stalvek…"

"Were you aware of the fact that the S'hnra H'osheh clan is as old as your own? My forbearers were also among the first followers of Surak."

"No, I did not know this."

"I mention this because—and it is difficult for me to admit this aloud—my people are very proud of this fact and have been since the early days. In subsequent generations I believe that this conceit has led them astray, as they have perverted Surak's teachings to suit their own prejudicial views and passed those lessons on to their children."

Now they were no longer toeing the line of propriety—they had fully crossed over into the dark side. T'Alora insisted they put a stop to the conversation at once which Stalvek stalwartly refused.

"No. I state these facts so that you and I might come to an understanding. From my infancy I was taught that my clan was superior to all others. Much emphasis was placed on my education, both scholastic and physical, so that I would be greater still than my peers. My ko-mekh saw to my every need as pertained to her sphere of influence in order to help achieve this end for the glory of our clan." He took a deep breath and delved on. "As interspecies breeding became more commonplace in the new colony and the hybrid population grew we were taught that this was not 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination' in practice but a flagrant flouting of Surak's words and the beginning of the downfall of Vulcan society—and I believed them until I met Casey."

To borrow one of Mama's clichés, she could have been knocked over with a feather from the shock of his declaration but wisely kept her tongue. She had always suspected that Stalvek had lived a somewhat sheltered existence prior to attending the VSA but she had no idea his upbringing had been so far removed from her own. Tolerance, individual responsibility, respect for oneself and others…all were a given in her household.

Suddenly Stalvek stood and clasped his hands tightly behind his back. He stared down at her hard, looking very large and imposing, and she began to wonder what he might do when he started to pace. "In the 2.83 years that I have been privileged to know her, Casey has metaphorically 'opened my eyes' to the backward ways of my clan, both in her demeanor and her affection for me. My sa-mekh refuses to declare me V'tosh ka'tur because he cannot bear the shame of it but in casting me out as summarily as he has has left me looking for all the world as if I am without logic. The entirety of my life up to this point has followed one well-plot out course and now I have no relatives nor friends to turn to for advice or support. Even you, T'Alora, who is intentionally independent, do not lack for familial connections or backing of any kind should you require it."

For a moment he ceased his pacing and looked upon her with eyes as sad as the first evening he arrived, wet and dripping, on their doorstep. "12.7 weeks ago you entered into a lease agreement with two roommates, not three. I realize that this new arrangement has been difficult for you and I resolve to improve myself so as to make it more bearable, for I am as uncertain as you are as to how long this may last. I only ask that you have patience with me as I attempt to—" he searched for the right words and the minute he spoke them she knew they had come straight from Casey's mouth, "—get my bearings while also gaining proficiency in such tasks as you have had several years' practice in. That is all."

Unaccustomed to such a display he strode quickly for the door while T'Alora rose to stop him. "Stalvek." He turned with his palm on the handle and leveled his gaze upon her. "I will comply with your request, however, in order to help you in your mission of self-improvement I have a request of my own to make."

"Of course." He stood erect, ready to take whatever criticism she offered as if she were firing live rounds of ammunition.

"As a point of common courtesy for the women you now live with, you should know that the seat of the waste disposal unit in our sole restroom should never remain in the upright position. In the future I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep this in mind and return it to it's original place."

_Finally_, she thought as the right corner of his mouth ticked up. It was the first ghost of a smile she had ever before witnessed on Stalvek's face.

"I will endeavor to satisfy your request."

And he lived up to his word for the remainder of his stay.

* * *

><p>* "Etek ki'salv saternayan. T'nash-veh sa-mekh leh fez-puma wu" = Vulkhansu, "We have been discovered. My father has disowned me." (cobbled together from the VLD and my own hand)<p> 


	29. Chapter 29

**New Year, New…?**

_**12 Trelevin Street, Apartment 4, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2281.363, 2341 hours. **The apartment was quiet as she settled herself under the covers. Poleia had returned to New Gol thirteen days earlier to spend the break with Ferlan and the rest of her family while Casey had simultaneously made the journey home to Terra. She had been loathe to leave her boyfriend but the ticket her aunt purchased was not refundable and Stalvek was unable to afford his own fare. After a tearful parting and many promises extracted from T'Alora that she would indeed look out for him in her absence Casey departed, now comming them an average of only once every 14.58 hours.

Currently her own family were so far out in the Delta Quadrant that they had been unable to return to New Vulcan and she was likewise unable to visit them, so T'Alora spent her days studying, shopping, walking about the city, and visiting with her sa-mekh-al. The _Enterprise _was scheduled to arrive in their sector in thirteen days' time, at which point her family planned to take a transport shuttle to New Shi'Kahr to spend some much needed shore leave with her before the start of the new semester. It was not ideal but she was simply glad to have the opportunity to spend any time with them at all; since the beginning of her college career it seemed that quality time with her family became more and more difficult to come by.

As her head came to rest against the pillow she consulted her internal clock and was reminded that there were only twenty-four hours and nineteen minutes left in the current year. Given her disastrous romance with David Merchant 7.2 months ago, T'Alora was more then prepared to embrace the Terran tradition of turning over a new 'leaf' in the new year and longed to begin. The passage of time also brought her family that much closer to her and she was looking forward to showing them her apartment—provided that Stalvek did not suffer any more domestic mishaps in the interim.

* * *

><p><strong>0318 hours.<strong> T'Alora awoke with a start, heart pounding and eyes flung wide open in terror. Rarely did she rely solely on feelings but she knew deep within her core that something was terribly wrong, despite having no foreknowledge of what that was or any evidence to support her conclusion. She had slept soundly, dreamlessly, until moments ago. In her dazed state she could only recall the sensations she felt before waking—heavy trembling, smoke, dust and debris filling the air—but above all there was panic.

She was so startled and out-of-sorts she actually jumped at the sound of a soft knock on her door.

"T'Alora?" Stalvek—but what could he possibly want? "I heard you cry out. Are you unwell?"

She was unaware that she had made any such sound. "One moment." Grabbing her robe off the foot of the bed she shrugged it on and tied the belt tight.

As the door slid open Stalvek regarded her curiously. "Are you unwell?"

"I…" There it was again: that sensation that all was not right. She leaned against the door frame as if physically fatigued. "I do not know."

He motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen where he wordlessly started the electric kettle as she sat down. T'Alora watched as he retrieved two mugs from the cupboard then reached for the canister to add a scoop of fragrant tea leaves to each cup. A month ago the very idea of making a cup of tea would have confounded him; now he moved with practiced ease.

Stalvek set the steaming mug before her and took a seat opposite. "Casey has prepared this beverage for me on evenings when my mind is troubled and rest is elusive. I find it has a great soothing effect and hope it will produce the same for you."

"Thank you." He gave her a small nod then took a sip of his drink. While they sat there T'Alora stared hard at the tabletop trying to sort out the foggy puzzle in her mind. She was about to chalk the whole situation up to a rare nightmare when the entire right side of her body felt aflame; no sooner had she hissed and grasped her bicep then the phantom pain vanished, but it gave her a flash of insight that sent her dashing to the comm.

"T'Alora?" As Stalvek hurried to her side he barely hid the traces of worry in his voice. She ignored him as her fingers flew over the keypad and dialed in her home number. "T'Alora, what is the matter?"

Not trusting her voice to remain steady she chose not to answer him. The comm. rang out six times before the automated voice informed her that her call could not be completed and that she should either re-check the number or make a second attempt later. At that pronouncement T'Alora felt the bile rise up in the back of her throat.

It was not rational for her to give in so completely to fear so easily. The _Enterprise_ could be operating under a communications black-out, or perhaps the communications array was malfunctioning; both had happened before and could be happening again. But T'Alora innately knew that neither examples were the given case here. The ship was under attack and her parents and brothers were in grave danger.

T'Alora shut her eyes tight and focused with all her might on the mental thread of her family. They were not actively blocking her but were so preoccupied with their own survival that she could not get a read on their condition, all she knew was that they were alive.

For how much longer, she could not say.

Stalvek finally seemed to catch up with her as he saw the address scrolling on-screen. "You are unable to reach your family." Looking into her eyes he saw the worry that lurked there. "You are concerned for their safety."

"I must see my sa-mekh-al." Sarek was much more disciplined then she, he would be able to determine her family's status much better...

He took hold of her arm as she reached for her traveling cloak and T'Alora belayed her roaring instinct telling her to fling him into the nearest wall. "You will not go unaccompanied at this hour."

Her eyes narrowed. New Shi'Kahr was perfectly safe, the distance was not far and she considered herself to be more lethal then any being she might encounter on the sidewalk. "I am fully capable of defending myself."

"Of that I have no doubt; still, I offer myself as escort." Stalvek released her arm as he picked up his own cloak then gestured for her to lead the way. Without further dalliance she tore out the front door.

* * *

><p>Stalvek trailed after her quick as a shadow and just as silent. Her uneasiness grew as she turned down the familiar street to find her sa-mekh-al's house fully lit. Striding right up to the front door T'Alora hardly touched the chime when her sa-mekh-al answered, his long, dark, sleeping robes billowing about him like an ominous cloud.<p>

"What news have you of your parents?" he asked, ushering them in without so much as a greeting. The question further disheartened her for, if Sa-mekh-al had no news, then the situation must truly be dire.

"I know only that they live." T'Alora followed him down the hall toward the living area without bothering to remove her cloak. "Have you any information about the _Enterprise_?"

He shook his head. "No. My inquiry to Starfleet has not yet been answered." Sa-mekh-al closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the only outward indication he was perturbed. "It has been 22.7 minutes since I last made contact with their headquarters; I shall make another attempt now." He was about to leave her sitting on the sofa when he suddenly noticed Stalvek and did a double-take. "Who are you?"

"I am S'hnra H'osheh Stalvek, Osu Sarek. I am one of T'Alora's roommates."

She could fairly see the inner-workings of her sa-mekh-al's mind as he took in this information. Not only had she neglected to introduce them but she had also failed to mention to her sa-mekh-al that she had a new third roommate.

Sa-mekh-al shot a glance her way. "I must contact Starfleet." He strode briskly out of the room, creating a cool breeze in his wake, and T'Alora shuddered at the thought of the lengthy discussion that would follow if and when things settled down.

The pair sat straight-backed on opposite ends of the sofa. Smoothing out the fabric on her lap T'Alora resisted the urge to fidget the way Se'tak was prone to do.

Her pi'sa-kais*. The mere thought of them grieved her. Were they scared? Injured? Safe? It had always been her privilege and duty as their osa'ko-kai* to protect them and here she was completely helpless. What was worse was that the longer she fretted over their predicament the darker her thoughts grew, and it was not a future she wanted to envisage.

And what of Mama and Sa-mekh? They were senior Starfleet officers, well trained to look out for themselves, but more importantly they were her parents. What if this mission, whatever it was, saw them both making the ultimate sacrifice to protect the Federation?

T'Alora felt faint. She was ill-equipped to handle this, to sit in Sa-mekh-al's house with nothing else to do but beat her emotions back. The _Enterprise _had been under attack before—it had even been boarded before (she still shuddered to think of the Klingon invasion that took place when she was 6.8 years old)—but the point was that she had been physically present whenever her family and home had been threatened; she had been able to contribute to their protection.

And now all this waiting—well, it simply made her feel…futile.

"Admiral Glickmann told me that the _Enterprise_ last made contact 37.4 minutes ago," Sa-mekh-al announced as he re-entered the room. "They informed command that they had just encountered an unidentified ship dropping out of warp. The transmission was cut-off before any other facts could be relayed and subsequent attempts to contact the ship have gone unanswered."

"How soon will other ships arrive in the area to assist?" He glanced down and to the left, a quick, casual movement, nothing more, but it was a tell T'Alora swiftly picked up on. "They do not intend to send aid."

"Not at this time. The Admiral has stated that if he and other council members were to divert Starfleet ships every time the _Enterprise_ was under the appearance of trouble no work would ever get done throughout the Federation." T'Alora bolted up from her seat in protest, ready to re-call the Admiral and unleash a wave of pure Vulcan wrath, when her sa-mekh-al held up his hand. "He speaks the truth and he speaks from experience, despite the fact that you and I know otherwise. If they are unable to re-establish communication with the _Enterprise _in thirty-six hours time then they promise to dispatch two of their closest ships to their last known coordinates."

"That may be too late," she rejoined through clenched teeth.

Sa-mekh-al gave a nod of agreement. "I concur with you. It is time that you and I go to work. Come with me, ko-fu-il*." Before leaving the room completely he turned and addressed Stalvek. "You are dismissed."

"Osu Sarek," Stalvek replied, "I would like to remain here if I may be of further assistance to you and T'Alora."

Giving him another apprising glance, Sa-mekh-al nodded. "We will be in deep meditation. You may assist us by answering the comm and informing us if there is any news."

"Veling, Osu*." Stalvek strode off to plant himself before the console and await the call. Her sa-mekh-al also traveled down the hall and she followed him directly. Without a word spoken between them he moved into the meditation chamber and pulled his asenoi out to the center of the floor while she removed her cloak and settled herself onto the mat in the lotus position.

"We must clear our minds," he intoned as he settled down across from her. "And follow the familial connection so that we may glean whatever information we can. This is the only way we can help your parents and brothers now."

"Understood."

With a given purpose T'Alora did just as he proposed and after taking several deep breaths began to put all other thoughts out of her mind. Initially she opted to strengthen the link to her family as a unit but their thoughts were chaotic, disjointed, or (worryingly) silent. Greatly discouraged she decided to try a different approach and strengthen a single connection so that she might learn more; by process of elimination T'Alora chose Se'tak. Sa-mekh would have been the best choice but she knew her sa-mekh-al would be reaching out to him too and she did not wish to impede his progress. Mama was human, and it would be difficult to maintain a strong connection with her long enough to determine what events had transpired. Selas' mind, while well-ordered and similar to her own, would only have been able to give her his impressions of what happened and no visual data; for those reasons Se'tak became the most logical link for her to turn to.

She spent 2.34 hours in deep meditation trying to reach her pi'sa-kai. Every time she came close to getting through she was presented with the same image—Se'tak running along an empty hall, dragging Selas behind him, when a tremendous explosion knocked them clean off their feet and sent the roof crashing down on their heads. It was distressing to have to repeatedly witness this moment and know there was nothing she could do to alter the outcome yet it also gave her no new information as to what had transpired. T'Alora was on the verge of admitting defeat when she finally got a glimpse of her brother's present situation.

He was seated on one of the shuttles, sequestered in the back near a small viewport. His left arm was done up in a hastily constructed sling and he was staring out into the distance at a scattered field of debris. He was tired, worried and…heartsick?

T'Alora was so startled she broke all concentration and gasped. There was not enough wreckage to indicate that the _Enterprise_ had been destroyed, but if that was not the case then why was her brother on-board a shuttle? Why was he not receiving further medical attention in Sickbay? And where were Mama, Sa-mekh and Selas?

None of it made any sense.

Sa-mekh-al's eyes were wide and focused intensely on her. "What have you discovered?" She relayed the information she had collected to the best of her ability and after considering the facts her sa-mekh-al was just as puzzled. When T'Alora inquired after her sa-mekh all her sa-mekh-al could impart was that he was unconscious and he was unable to delve deeper into his recent memories despite his best efforts.

She closed her eyes and considered the time. 4.1 hours had passed since she and Sa-mekh-al had entered into meditation. If Starfleet had decided to move forward with a rescue plan in the interim they did not inform them of it; therefore it was safe to conclude that they were sticking to their original plan of waiting thirty-six hours.

Now it fell to her to save her family and the other survivors.

T'Alora squared her shoulders and set aside all emotion. "I require a secure line of communication."

Sa-mekh-al's eyebrow shot up but he did not outwardly question her; instead he rose from the floor and led her to his office where Stalvek, upon seeing them, slipped away from his post to give them their privacy. Her sa-mekh-al quickly entered in his codes and after adding two more encryptions of her own to his diplomatic line she dialed the number she hoped would bring about her family's salvation.

A young human woman, with a smile as wide and bright as Mama's, appeared on-screen and the sight almost elicited a sob from T'Alora's throat. "_U.S.S. Discovery_, Lieutenant Carroll responding. Please identify yourself."

"I am S'chn T'gai T'Alora calling from New Shi'Kahr on New Vulcan. I request an audience with Captain Sulu immediately."

The woman's smile faltered and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. In an overly formal and solicitous tone the Lieutenant replied, "I'm afraid that the captain is unavailable at the moment. May I ask what this is about?"

"That is none of your concern, however, I must speak with the captain. This is a matter of…"

Her dismissal was quite curt. "If you refuse to answer me than I must terminate this call. Good day." The screen went black.

Summarily rebuffed and suitably irritated, she folded her arms across her chest and considered her next strategy. Further attempts to reach Uncle Hikaru through this communication officer would be met with greater resistance and hostility, hence they would be a waste of precious time. No, if she wanted to reach her uncle the best bet would be through another shipboard connection…

After consulting the directory she found the number she was looking for and dialed.

A slim blond woman, half-asleep, answered the call. "Hello?"

"Greetings, Emily. My name is T'Alora. We have not been formally introduced but I am…"

"You're my sister's friend, yeah I know," the young woman replied. She straightened in her seat and tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. "Everything ok? I thought Casey was home on break…"

"She is on Terra and, last I heard, doing well. No, I am calling because I need to speak with your captain immediately; it is a matter of some urgency." That news fully roused the young security officer from her slumber and T'Alora proceeded to hastily outline everything that had transpired. When she was finished Emily sat back, one hand on her chin, deep in thought.

"T'Alora, I don't know about all this. It's not that I don't believe you, I do, I just don't know if I can reach him. I'm only a Lieutenant Junior Grade; I'm up for a promotion next month but until then I still have to go through official channels and report to my CO* before being allowed to speak directly with the captain, and I know my superiors won't be quite so sympathetic to your plight. Also, and I feel stupid saying this because you practically grew up in Starfleet, but it's SOP* under these conditions to wait before mounting a rescue like the one you're suggesting."

Under normal circumstances T'Alora would have found a more reasonable, logical argument in order to sway her friend's sister (or possibly even agreed with her), but this time was different and so she tried a more—_emotional_ approach.

"Emily, if you had possessed the means to save your parents when they were under attack, would you not have done everything in your power to help bring them safely home, as I am doing?"

Whatever the other woman was thinking after she made her plea was anyone's guess but T'Alora did note the way Emily pursed her lips and seemed to consider her from the other side of the screen. "Alright," she finally said, reaching for some device off camera, "Give me one minute."

As she waited on the other end of the line she watched Emily take her communicator in hand then stand up and pace the length of the room. Time was of the essence yet she spent several seconds muttering to herself, likely gathering her courage, before entering the code that would connect her to her captain. Although tinny and distant to her ears T'Alora heard her Uncle Hikaru pick up the line.

"Who is this? This had better be good…"

"Captain Sulu, it's Lieutenant J.G. Morton, Sir. I apologize for contacting you so early, but…"

"Early?" her uncle barked. "Morton, it's not yet 0230, this is beyond early!"

"Yes, I understand that, Sir, but…"

"Is somebody dying?"

"Not that I know of, Sir."

Unseen, T'Alora rolled her eyes. She almost shouted to make her presence known but her uncle's constant interruptions would have precluded him from properly hearing her.

"Is the ship under attack?"

"No, Sir, the _Discovery_ is currently safe, but…"

"Well then unless you want to scrub the floors of the brig with a _toothbrush_ for the next three weeks, Ms. Morton, I suggest you get to the point!"

Emily gulped, stopped pacing, and said, "I have reason to believe the _Enterprise _is under attack and in need of our help."

No sound came out of the communicator and she could almost picture her uncle narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "How did you come by this information?"

"Well, Sir, I have a young woman, T'Alora, on the line. She told me…"

"T'Alora? You mean to tell me that T is on the line with you right now telling you all this? Why didn't she contact me?!"

"As I was trying to explain…" Emily quickly launched into the whole story and T'Alora was pleased at how quickly and efficiently she worked. "Which is how I ended up contacting you at this 'beyond early' hour. Sir," she tacked on, lest she be called up for insubordination.

There was a very brief pause on the other end of the line, then, "Patch her through to my line, I want to talk to her myself."

"Yes, Sir, only…"

"Authorization code 1-7-5-4-Foxtrot-Charlie."

"Understood; I'll put her through to you right away, Captain." Setting her communicator aside Emily re-took her seat before the console. "Good luck," she whispered before disappearing from view.

Uncle Hikaru quickly appeared on-screen. The room behind him was dark, further evidence of her interruption of the ship's night cycle, and his hair stuck up on one side. "T'Alora? Is it true?"

"Yes."

He sank back in his chair. "Good G-d." His hand swept down his face and T'Alora noted how haggard the motion made him look. Command had aged him—minutely, perhaps, to some, but to her eyes he looked markedly different from when she had known him as a young pilot. He spoke in a whisper meant only for his ears, forgetting how aurally sensitive she was. "Jim, he'd never leave the ship. And Len! G-d knows he'd never leave Jim… And what about Gloria? She wouldn't leave until she knew for sure the lab was cleared…"

In that instant T'Alora was forcibly reminded that this was not just her family in danger but his as well. Wendy, Dimora and Kyson might all be safe in their beds aboard the _Discovery_ but just as she had numerous 'aunts', 'uncles', and 'cousins' on the _Enterprise_ he had just as many 'brothers', 'sisters', 'nieces' and 'nephews' too. "Uncle Hikaru…"

He turned to her with a sharp look in his eye, as if daring her to heap pity on him, and she was also reminded why he had been given his own command. "Have you any idea what their last coordinates were?"

She quickly pulled up her personal mail account, searching her in-box. "No, I was only told that their latest mission brought them out into the Delta quadrant; I do, however, have a letter Mama sent me 2.14 days ago that I will forward on to you. Your communications officers should have equipment sophisticated enough to backtrack it to it's source, thereby giving you an approximate location for the ship."

"Good." T'Alora passed the message along and almost as soon as he received it her uncle sent it to his people with a priority 1 alert attached.

"_The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one._" Sa-mekh and Surak's words were as true now as they had been the first day she had heard them. Suddenly T'Alora realized how selfish she was being by potentially putting her uncle and his crew in harm's way while also risking his entire career. "Uncle Hikaru, you should be aware that Starfleet will not sanction these actions. They have already informed my sa-mekh-al that they do not intend to send out a search and rescue mission for another 31.89 hours; and although I may face minor repercussions for my part you will undoubtedly lose your ship, if not your entire commission, if or when you are discovered."

He frowned. "I'm well aware of what's at stake here, T, but I am **NOT** leaving them to twist in the wind. I know how special your connection is to your family and if you tell me they're in trouble then they're in trouble—you wouldn't have called me about this otherwise. Also, if it weren't for your dad I wouldn't even have a ship to command so if that's the price I have to pay then so be it, protocol be damned." He paused briefly, the fire in his eyes slightly receding. "Besides, if the situation were reversed you know they'd be coming for me."

The corners of her mouth twitched infinitesimally upward. "That would be correct."

"Damn right it is," he replied. His arms worked in concert calling up numerous files on his end of the screen. "Now you sit tight and I'll call you at your grandfather's when I have more information, ok? Try not to worry."

"Thank you, Uncle Hikaru."

"Hey, what are godfathers for?" he said with a grin. "Alright, I've got to get underway, Sulu out."

The call ended and T'Alora proceeded to stare at the black screen for another 47.2 seconds contemplating all that she had just set in motion. There was no going back and no further action she could take. All she could do now was sit helplessly by and wait.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Oh no, what'd I do? Eep, it looks like my evil twin took over and left you with a cliffie!

Ok, so I'm being _slightly_ diabolical here, but it's not without good cause. Se'tak and Selas have been clamoring for a chance to tell their stories and this was the best spot to temporarily halt T'Alora's tale as it is the point where (I hope) all three stories will eventually reconvene. That said, I can't believe how long T's story is! I swear I did not set out to write quite this much about her and I hope Se'tak and Selas (and my readers) won't feel too neglected when I get to the boys' tales because I have a feeling they'll be a bit more compact. Anyhow, thank you all for sticking with "Forging Her Own Path" and be sure and put it in your alert list if you want to be the first to hear about future updates! Take care!

* pi'sa-kais = Vulkhansu, little brothers

* osa'ko-kai = Vulkhansu, older sister

* ko-fu-il = Vulkhansu, granddaughter

* "Veling, Osu." = Vulkhansu, "Of course, Sir."

* CO = Commanding Officer

* SOP = Standard Operating Procedure


	30. Chapter 30

**Grief**

_**New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan**_**, 2282.2, 0947 hours.** The shifting weight of the PADD on her lap broke her rest and she started. She was sitting on the sofa and had unwittingly fallen asleep (again) while waiting for news. Angry at herself for the lapse, and unaccustomed to having her hands metaphorically tied while her family was in danger, T'Alora gripped her PADD hard and consulted it once more. There were, however, no new messages.

It had been 3.24 days since she felt her family's distress, and currently all she knew was that they were alive. She attempted to hail the ship on 58 separate occasions within that span of time and was met with the same inability to connect as she had in the early morning hours of that first day. Not for the first time T'Alora found herself considering all the possibilities. Had the ship suffered some kind of mechanical failure or had they been attacked? Was the _Enterprise_ badly damaged—or worse—had it been destroyed? Were there many casualties? And if so, how many of her family and friends were in that number?

Stalvek's entry into the room interrupted her dark thoughts. He carried a small tray bearing a tea set and toast and jam. "Osu Sarek instructed me not to wake you; however, when I heard you move I decided sustenance was in order."

"Thank you." She poured a cup for him then one for herself. She barely had time to bring the cup to her lips when her PADD chimed and she all but threw the piece of pottery on the table, her eyes quickly scanning the missive.

It was a message from Casey, inquiring if there had been any news from the _Enterprise_ while reiterating her offers of assistance. Stalvek guessed as much by the way her expression fell a fraction of a millimeter. "Casey?" T'Alora nodded. "Her intentions are noble."

"I know." She typed up a swift reply and sent it back. Both of her roommates had taken it upon themselves to check in with her in the intervening days, a gesture she appreciated despite the fact that every time she received a notification in her in-box her heart started to race. Their objectives were, as Stalvek said, truly noble. "Have you spoken with her directly?"

"Briefly," he replied, "When I returned to the apartment 2.88 days ago to shower and retrieve fresh clothing for us both. She was most alarmed by your news when I first imparted it to her and insisted on cutting her trip short and taking the next available transport here. I was able to convince her of the illogic of that course of action and suggest that she would be more helpful to you by remaining on Terra."

She was so tired she very nearly rose from her seat and hugged Stalvek in gratitude. Her friend's presence would most likely serve to annoy rather than alleviate her distress despite her intentions and Stalvek recognized as much. T'Alora glanced over at him and noted the slight curve of his lips as he thought of his effervescent beloved. He had proven himself a great friend to her and her family in their hour of need and she now had a better understanding of what Casey saw in him as a potential bondmate.

Sarek swept into the room suddenly, his ambassadorial robes flaring out behind him. Judging by the slightly pinched expression on his face she deduced that he had been on the comm once again with Starfleet Headquarters. She poured a fresh cup of tea for him. "I believe I am being given 'the run around'," he declared as he settled himself in his armchair.

Stalvek quirked his brow. "I do not understand."

Sarek turned his attention to him. "The Starfleet Admirals and their subordinates refuse to give any information as to the status of the _Enterprise_ and choose instead to pass my calls off between their various offices in the hopes that I will desist in my efforts. They will neither confirm nor deny that the ship is still intact or if they are in contact with anyone on-board." He took a sip of his tea. "Their behavior is most illogical."

"Agreed."

Her sa-mekh-al looked her over most carefully then; apparently he did not like what he saw. "T'Alora, you must rest; remaining in this attitude for so many hours is detrimental to your health and you know that we would not withhold any news from you. You would be alerted as soon as information became available."

It was hypocritical of him to say as much, considering that she knew he was not sleeping as well; the patina had been worn off a portion of his bedroom floor where he spent numerous hours pacing. However, T'Alora knew to hold her tongue. Rest would remain elusive for them both until such time as they had news.

"Perhaps, if you will not rest," Stalvek interjected, already anticipating her refusal, "You would accompany me to the market for fresh food and supplies." She was about to object to him too when he added, "The walk will serve to reinvigorate you and we will not travel far from the compound." Sa-mekh-al nodded in agreement and so she resigned herself to depart. She retrieved her traveling cloak and allowed Stalvek to escort her out.

It was the first time in days that she had seen the sun and she had to shade her eyes from the glare. Stalvek set a brisk pace and she hastened to keep up. The market was 12 blocks away and they made the journey in silence. She appreciated that he did not feel the need to placate her with false words of hope; instead, upon their arrival, he chose to distract her by querying her on how much produce they should buy, whether or not they required more tea, or if they had the necessary ingredients to make a lasagna.

In spite of Stalvek's best efforts the fate of the _Enterprise_ was never far from her mind and she often caught herself wondering how everyone around her could go about the daily business of living when she was caught in this limbo of uncertainty. Then she caught sight of an Elder emerging from a nearby café and reconsidered her position. The woman had seen many years, and as she trod a slow path home T'Alora found herself speculating on who she might be returning home to. Was her spouse still living? Did she have any children? Grandchildren? Had she lost all that and much more when Vulcan was destroyed?

She could not tell.

T'Alora quickly realized that she was not alone in her anxieties-only the people around her had more practice in not letting them consume them. Whatever the outcome-for her family, her friends and her ship-she would survive this too, just as her people before her had done.

Stalvek gently shook her shoulder. "T'Alora?" She had been staring out into the middle distance for some time. "T'Alora?"

"Yes?"

He dropped his hand. "I believe we have procured enough food stuffs for now. We may return to the compound."

They were 5 blocks away when Sarek met them on the sidewalk, her PADD clutched in his hands. He held it out to her, not saying a word, and she quickly opened up her in-box. There was 1 new message waiting for her.

The ship is gone. We have your family and the other survivors on-board. More details to follow.

-H.S.

So the _Enterprise_ was no more; it was as much as she suspected. Yet Uncle Hikaru and his crew had been able to reach her family and the others—this was good news, so then why did this much-sought after information not bring her more relief? She passed the PADD back to her sa-mekh-al so that he might also read it. He reviewed it then handed it back, sensing her disappointment as she passed the device to Stalvek.

"Have patience, ko-fu-il. The answers you seek will be forthcoming. For now we know that they are alive and safe and that is what matters most."

* * *

><p><strong>1503 hours.<strong> They sequestered themselves away in his office with explicit instructions to Stalvek that they were not to be disturbed (unless by an emergency summons from the Council). Sarek remained in his chair, his attitude fixed and eyes following T'Alora as she paced. Her steps were troubled and it grieved him to have to watch her deal with the loss of her home-but his sorrow was doubled for Spock.

Though his sa-fu would never admit to as much, Sarek knew that the destruction of the _Enterprise_ meant that Spock had now lost another home. Yes, their family had other houses in which they could reside-the property in San Francisco had been theirs for many years and more recently they had this dwelling in New Shi'Khar-but to Spock neither of these places were home. Vulcan that was had been his first home; the _Enterprise_ his second. It was no easy thing to lose that place of belonging, of security and serenity, and to have to experience such upheaval twice in a lifetime was a difficult concept for him to grasp.

There was one thing Sarek had learned though, in all the years of his sa-fu's life, and that was that Spock possessed a great inner strength that would carry him and his family well through this latest crisis.

* * *

><p>She tread the floorboards in a steady, even pace, following a figure 8 pattern on the rug that she began 47.6 minutes ago. Surreptitiously, T'Alora worried her lower lip while wondering when her uncle would make the promised call.<p>

There was much that her Uncle Hikaru would need to oversee on his ship right now. He would need to secure all the survivors and see that they were treated, fed, clothed, and given proper berths; he would consult with the medical team on treatment for the wounded; and he would need to discuss the specifics of the _Enterprise's_ demise.

No, not demise—destruction. The ship was a thing, not a person, and it was gone.

Even as she thought these thoughts T'Alora contradicted herself. The ship may not have been a living, breathing, sentient creature yet practically since it's creation it had been very much alive. As Se'tak once remarked, the _Enterprise_ was special. Unique.

And she had been home.

T'Alora paused and looked out the window high up into the sky. She may have been living on New Vulcan for the better part of the last 3.58 years but her home was on the ship. Wordlessly, she sent up a quiet farewell to the place that had nurtured her.

The chime on the comm. unit sounded and Sa-mekh-al swiftly answered the call while she took a seat beside him. An instant later Uncle Hikaru's face appeared on-screen. He looked quite haggard.

"T'Alora," he said with a nod. "Ambassador."

"Captain Sulu."

"Uncle Hikaru." He grinned a little at that.

"I know this is unnecessary but before I answer any questions I need to remind you that this information is strictly confidential; Command doesn't even know for certain yet that the _Enterprise_ is gone let alone that we have the survivors." They gave their assent with a nod as he ran a hand down his face. This rescue mission had taken it's toll on him as much as it had on them.

"First things first," he said, locking eyes with her. "Your father was pretty badly injured in an explosion while trying to get off the ship. He was brought aboard with burns all along his right side. We took him straight to Medical where Leonard took over treatment and after a couple hours in surgery it looks like he'll pull through. He's still in a healing trance now and will probably stay that way for several days."

Though he couched his words she knew the truth—her Sa-mekh had had quite a close brush with death and was still in danger, and he would remain that way for several more days. While she was grateful that he was in such capable hands the fact remained that she was not there and if anything happened to him in the interim…

"And Nyota and the boys, are they well?" Sa-mekh-al inquired. She blinked back her tears.

"Just a few bumps and scrapes. Se'tak dislocated his shoulder but Jim was able to pop it back into place and he's doing ok now. I'd have let them call you but it's 4:30 in the morning here and they're exhausted."

"We understand."

"Uncle Hikaru," she asked, finally trusting her own voice again, "Who did not survive?"

He took a deep breath before replying. "I can't answer that, T; not yet. It's not that I don't want to but their families need to be notified first. You understand."

His look spoke of a hope that she would desist in her line of questioning; however, she could not stop herself. She needed to know. "How many perished?"

Uncle Hikaru sighed. "63 souls were lost."

63—that was 13.9% of the full crew compliment.

How many of her friends had she lost?

* * *

><p><em><strong>New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan<strong>_**, 2282.7, 2138 hours.** She had been in near constant communication with Mama, Se'tak and Selas since Uncle Hikaru's call, and their calls did much to ease her troubled mind. Sa-mekh's health was improving slowly but steadily and they anticipated that he would awaken before they reached Terran space dock in 9.14 days. She and her sa-mekh-al would travel to San Francisco in 5 days' time in order to ready the house for their arrival.

That morning she perused her PADD and learned that news of the _Enterprise's_ destruction had been released to the press, along with a list of casualties. She held her breath and scanned the names closely. Sa-mekh-al's eyes were heavy upon her, as well they should be, for each name she read sliced through her like a lirpa and she could not help but flinch. Laura McGinty, Duronan th'Neferan, Joyce Palmer, Hank McKeon, Paolo Acosta…

Paolo.

T'Alora felt the emotion swell up within her and rose abruptly from her seat. "Excuse me."

She hid herself away upstairs and spent the day in private meditation. Her tears flowed freely and frequently for her lost friends and she hoped for their sakes that their deaths had been swift and painless. It was 13.22 hours before she emerged from her room and when she did her heart was only marginally less encumbered than it had been when she had entered.

Her strength waning, T'Alora descended the staircase intent on making herself some dinner when she discovered a great many packages littering the foyer. They appeared to be organized but it was not by any system she could readily identify, as all the parcels were wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Her curiosity piqued, she was about to open one when the front doorbell chimed.

The door opened to reveal a young family of three standing before her. They were not familiar to her but then again not many of her sa-mekh-al's colleagues were. In their arms were packages similar to the ones gathered behind her.

"Good evening," the man said. "This is Ambassador Sarek's residence, is it not?"

"It is."

The man nodded to his bondmate and son and they presented her with their parcels, gave her the ta'al and departed as quickly as they appeared. T'Alora stood bewildered in the midst of the foyer with both arms full while the door shut in front of her.

When her sa-mekh-al emerged from his office she did not know but he announced his presence behind her by way of simple declaration. "They are donations for survivors of the _Enterprise_. They have come from every corner of the city and I have received word that more are coming from New Shannai'Khar and New Gol."

T'Alora did an about face and stared at him. "I do not understand."

He stepped forward and retrieved one of the larger packages from her arms, arching an eyebrow as she spoke. "Truly?" When she made no reply he continued, "Our people have never forgotten who it was that attempted to save Vulcan. The _Enterprise_ not only fought for our world but the ship and it's crew helped establish this colony, giving us all a chance to re-build our lives."

Sa-mekh-al walked into the kitchen and proceeded to unwrap the latest packages. He stopped tugging on the knot in the string and looked her square in the eyes. "They grieve with you, T'Alora, just as I do. This is how they have chosen to make their grief known."

Completely dumbfounded by the revelation she merely nodded and unwrapped the parcel in her hands. It was from the little boy and inside was a toy bird carved out of wood. She could not help but draw comparisons to the toy sehlat pup her sa-mekh carved for her prior to her birth; it was precious to her which was why she'd left it behind in her room on the ship, where it would be safe. This fresh reminder of her loss caused her eyes to fill with tears, only this time as they fell Sa-mekh-al was there holding her close.


	31. Chapter 31

'**Home'**

_**New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan, **_**2282.12, 1225 hours. **He paused in his packing and turned to the doorway. "You have spoken with your mother?"

T'Alora nodded. "She has confirmed that the _Discovery_ will reach Terran space dock in four days' time. They will then return to San Francisco via shuttle."

He arched an eyebrow at her. If his sa-fu were able to stand on his own then the family would have no need for a shuttle, they would simply teleport down. "Your sa-mekh is still in a healing trance then?"

Her eyes dropped to the floor. "Ha, Sa-mekh-al."

They stood together in silence a moment as he reached out to her across the familial bond. It distressed him to see her so upset and disturbed him further that there was little he could do to ease her pain. "Our transport will be leaving in 2.18 hours. Are you packed?"

She shook her head no. "I will go and finish directly."

* * *

><p><em><strong>150 Greenleaf Street, San Francisco<strong>_**, 2282.16, 1059 hours.** Yesterday she and Sa-mekh-al stood side-by-side on the sidewalk next to the taxi, bags in hand, assessing the condition of the house. It had been shut up since Sa-mekh-al last used it 14 months ago and appeared as gloomy as she felt.

Today, however, was another story. The instant she crossed the threshold T'Alora became a whirlwind of activity. She was not satisfied until the floors shone and the windows gleamed. Each bed had been re-made with fresh linens and ko-mekh-il's handmade quilts sat folded at every foot. The kitchen was filled with the scents of a dozen different dishes, all family favorites, now packed and waiting in the stasis unit to be consumed. There was not a single chore left to complete and now, as the hours and minutes ticked by until her family's return, all T'Alora could do was sit and wait.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Starfleet Shuttle Hangar Bay<strong>_**, 2282.16, 1500 hours.** They had both been monitoring the skies but T'Alora spotted the shuttle first. It made it's approach from the west, breaking the cloud cover and doing a circle once overhead before making a clean landing. Once the thrusters were disengaged the doors were opened and a ramp slid out. She held her breath, waiting to see who would appear first.

Se'tak stepped up to the opening, blinking into the light. He wore loose, black, Starfleet-issued trousers with matching turtleneck and his left arm was tucked against him in a crisp white sling. He had grown taller since she had last seen him and his hair had been cut short, but more than the changes to his physical appearance his bearing had been altered too. He had matured seemingly overnight. Her brother was no longer a boy but a young man who had seen and experienced things too terrible to think about.

Selas came up behind him just then and held fast to their brother's good arm. He was dressed similarly to Se'tak save for the dark glasses over his eyes which were grossly oversized and gave him the appearance of a much younger and smaller boy. In his free hand was a hastily constructed cane fashioned from a long silver-colored pipe and some electrical tape. He took a deep, _deep_ breath of air and turned his face up toward the sun until Se'tak began to move; then he swept the cane before him and tapped out a steady staccato to prevent himself from tripping over any unseen items in his path.

The sight of them—together, whole, and on terra firma—was too much for her and T'Alora could not contain herself. They were no more than two steps away from the shuttle when she rushed over and wrapped them up in her arms. "I am grateful that you both escaped unharmed," she whispered, resting her cheek atop Selas' head.

"As are we," her pi'sa-kai replied, clutching the back of her robe. Se'tak held her awkwardly and said nothing. They remained in that attitude for a full minute while other crew members and injured personnel disembarked around them. T'Alora became aware that a woman in science blues had paused beside their little group but she did not have the heart to relinquish her brothers and step aside just yet.

"Is this a private reunion or can anyone join?"

Her head shot up. "MAMA!"

Her mother's smile was reflected on her own face and fresh tears pricked her eyes. "Missed you too, Baby Girl," Mama whispered as they held each other close.

Another long moment passed before she drew back to wipe the moisture from her eyes. "Where is Sa-mekh?"

Mama's smile wobbled and Se'tak jerked his head back toward the shuttle entrance. At the top of the ramp Sa-mekh sat ramrod straight in his wheelchair, a nurse standing behind him ready to guide down. T'Alora dashed over before either of them could move. "SA-MEKH!" She dropped to her knees and laid her head in his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist while he stroked back her hair. For the first time in 2.9 weeks she felt settled and safe.

At peace.

"Nyota, I do not believe that T'Alora was at all concerned for our well-being throughout our ordeal."

"HA!"

All five heads swiveled in surprise at Sa-mekh-al as he attempted to cover over his indiscretion with a cough.

* * *

><p>Sa-mekh insisted on walking once they reached the house and she watched him closely as he rose up from the chair on shaky legs. She had never seen him so weak before; by her estimation he had lost approximately 11.33 kilograms during his healing trance and was so gaunt he was almost skeletal. And the burns! Scant traces of his wounds remained that she could see, however, the puckered skin peeking over his turtleneck and the scars on the back of his hand appeared to be permanent and it made her shudder to think of the pain he must have endured.<p>

He made it two steps from his chair in the kitchen before faltering. T'Alora feared that he would crash to the floor and injure himself further but Se'tak was by his side in an instant, wordlessly offering himself up for support. She recognized that Sa-mekh had a long road to recovery ahead of him—they all did—but she knew that their family, in comparison to many others from the _Enterprise_, was most fortunate.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Starfleet Headquarters, Officer's Temporary Housing, San Francisco,<strong>_** 2282.17, 1724 hours.** Hikaru toed off his boots, laid down on the sofa, tucked one hand behind his head and closed his eyes. He was tired, bone tired, but there'd be no rest for him yet—not in the near future at any rate. They'd only been back on Earth a day and already he'd had to defend himself and his actions to the admiralty over the last 9+ hours. They'd threatened his commission, which was as much as he'd expected, and they were being so obtuse about the whole operation that he even considered resigning…and what with all the bureaucratic bullshit he had to contend with he was getting one hell of a migraine. At least he had Pike on his side but still...

Hikaru brought his arm up and took a quick peek at the chronometer. He had roughly 25 minutes before he had to meet up with Wendy and the kids at his in-laws for dinner.

Oh joy.

Now if he could just rest his eyes a little while before getting changed…

The front door chime rang out so loudly throughout the empty apartment that it made him jump right off the sofa. Heart and mind racing, he started stumbling for the door only to stub his big toe on the end table. He clutched his throbbing foot in his hand and hopped over to palm the release, cursing a blue streak the whole way; after the day he'd had this was the absolute last thing he needed. "AH, GEEZ, FRICKIN' GORRAM PIECE OF…T'Alora?"

She stood before him, one elegantly arched eyebrow hefted high into her hairline. Dumbfounded he simply stared back at her still clutching his foot until it dawned on him what he'd said. "No, not you, the table, I was talking 'bout the table! I jammed my toe," he declared, gesturing to the offending appendage.

T'Alora glanced down at the wiggling digit. "I see."

Hikaru dropped his foot and tried to stand normally, stepping aside to let her pass. "So how're you doin', kiddo? Everything ok?"

"Everything is well, both within the family and at school." She turned her large, shimmering, brown eyes on him. "Uncle Hikaru, I am afraid that I cannot stay long. I am expected at home shortly, only I could not leave the campus today without speaking with you."

She was in such earnestness that it made him frown, wondering and worrying over the possibilities that could have brought her to his doorstep in such a state. Was it Spock, did he need help of some kind, only he was too proud to ask? It'd be just like him…or maybe it was Nyota? Was there some favor he could grant her that she didn't ask thinking it'd be an imposition? And what about the boys? Did they know that they could…

His private musings were suddenly thrown to the wayside as T'Alora embraced him in a hug the likes of which he hadn't been gifted since she was 9.5 years old. "Thank you," she said, her voice faltering slightly. "Thank you."

Still stunned by such an emotional display (coming from her) Hikaru slowly pulled his arms around her and began rubbing her back. "You never have to thank me, T. Never."

She pulled back, the corners of her lips ticking up marginally into a smile, then dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her navy blue robe. When she regained her composure she nodded at him and left him alone once more with nothing but his thoughts.

This. This was why he didn't dare resign or give in to the Admiralty's bullying. It wasn't just about helping T'Alora—he'd have done that regardless of whether she'd asked him to or not—but it was about exploring the galaxy and being able to help others when they needed it most. That's why he joined Starfleet in the first place, to satisfy his curiosity for deep space and to share and learn and grow in an intergalactic community.

And all it took was 2 minutes with his goddaughter to put things in perspective.

With a smile on his face he squared his shoulders and strode proudly down the hall; after all, he had a family dinner to get to.

* * *

><p><em><strong>150 Greenleaf Street, <strong>_**2282.26, 1903 hours.** "Mama, no."

Nyota ignored her daughter and continued stuffing garments back into her luggage. T'Alora had exchanged her return ticket to New Vulcan—AGAIN!—without anyone's knowledge—AGAIN!—and enough was enough. "No, you listen, T; your classes started over a week ago and I _will_ get you back to school even if I have to hire a shuttle, strap you down, and fly you there myself!"

Instead of an immediate, effusive rebuttal her daughter simply stared her down. "My presence is required here," T'Alora calmly stated. "As for my schoolwork, Poleia and Casey have been assisting me by forwarding and submitting all requisite assignments to my professors…"

"That's no substitute for the actual lectures you're missing; and besides…"

"…and I am current in all of my classes."

"…we're going to be planet-side for the foreseeable future so it's not as if we're going anywhere! We'll still be here when you get back."

T'Alora's jaw momentarily dropped before she quickly snapped it shut. "And what if you are not?"

Nyota winced and mentally slapped herself upside the head. For all her years as T'Alora's mother and with all her language and communication experience she'd really gone and stuck her foot in her mouth. Being separated forever by some catastrophic event—it was what they were all afraid of, especially after everything they'd been through so recently. That still didn't change the fact that T'Alora's place was at school, not hanging around waiting for the other shoe to drop in San Francisco.

"You, Sa-mekh and the boys are still recuperating. I can best aid you all in your recovery by remaining here," her daughter added.

Before she could reply she heard Spock speak from the hallway. "The best way you can assist this family," he intoned, "Is by returning to the Academy and continuing to perform admirably in all of your academic pursuits."

They turned as one to see him leaning against the doorway, still dressed in sweat-soaked clothing from his physical therapy appointment. Seeing him list to the side when his normal posture was so much the opposite was disheartening, but deep in her heart Nyota knew his health was improving greatly day by day. T'Alora started to move toward him, offering her support, but Spock held her off with a wave of his hand. He took a deep breath, straightened up, then walked into the room and sat on the bed beside the open suitcase.

That she and Spock were of like minds in T'Alora returning to school was not surprising, yet Nyota squeezed his shoulder lightly to express her gratitude for his support. He reached up and squeezed her hand back.

T'Alora locked eyes on them both, becoming increasingly defensive. "Sa-mekh, it would be illogical of me to leave until you are able to walk around unaided. A fall from any height is likely to aggravate your injuries and you would be further incapacitated, which would not…"

"I am able to walk unaided," he interrupted her.

She narrowed her eyes further. "You are unable to walk unaided for prolonged distances or extended periods of time. This is unacceptable."

He tilted his head, conceding the point. "That may be, however, only time and further recuperative efforts on my part will return me to my former strength. Your presence here will not expedite that process."

"I…"

Nyota stepped forward, taking her daughter by the shoulders. "T, Sweetie, we've all of us suffered a terrible blow. Look, I know our lives have been turned upside down, what with the loss of our friends and the ship, and the future seems very uncertain. I know I'm still sad and confused and—truth be told—a little scared, but we need to move forward; it's the best way to heal. For your sa-mekh that means getting physically healthy, and for us both it means getting our new assignments from Starfleet. For you and your brothers that means returning to school."

"I concur with your mother's assessment of the situation," Spock said, "And I would also like to remind you that, as the elder sibling, your brothers hold you in very high regard. Your return to the VSA would set a good example for them to follow as well."

She watched her daughter's expression change minutely as she processed this new information. _"Way to hit the nail on the head, Spock," _she said.

_"I do not understand what nail I am supposed to have hit, Nyota,"_ he replied across the bond, _"However, I do believe our combined efforts have swayed her decision."_

No sooner had he thought this then T'Alora stepped forward, picked up a cream colored blouse and folded it neatly in her hands before placing it in her case. "Your logic is sound. I will return to New Vulcan," she eyed them both carefully, "tomorrow."

_Fair enough_, she thought to herself. After all, that meant one more night spent in her daughter's company, and who could ask for anything better than that?

* * *

><p><em><strong>New Shi'Khar Shuttleport, <strong>_**2282.31, 1635 hours.** She exited the shuttle and paused just inside the station to close her travel cloak; as she did so a pair of small booted feet stepped directly in front of her. T'Alora looked up to discover who had entered her personal space. "Casey?" Her friend grinned in response; it was then that she noticed Poleia standing quietly beyond Casey's shoulder. "You did not need to meet me here; I would have arrived at the apartment in 29.46 minutes time and seen you both then."

Poleia stepped forward to take her carry-on bag while Casey just rolled her eyes. "Maybe we _wanted _to meet you here, T, you ever think of that?" When she got no reply she let out an exasperated sigh then laughed and threw her arms around her. "We missed you!"

Beside her, Poleia nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Your presence was sorely missed."

T'Alora felt the blush creep up into her cheeks. "Thank you. You were both missed as well."

The trio walked toward the baggage carousel with Casey linking her arms in each of theirs. "Is your family alright?"

"They are recovering well, thank you," T'Alora replied, "And were most grateful for the wellness packages you each sent."

"Oh good!" Casey squealed excitedly, "I was worried how the peanut butter cookies would go over. Stalvek always tells me he 'prefers' my recipe to others but I'm never sure if he's telling the truth or just trying to stay on my good side."

"It is illogical to lie, especially about something as trivial as baked goods," Poleia said while T'Alora bent over to retrieve her luggage. "That said, perhaps you will share this recipe with me so that I may make the cookies for Ferlan."

"Of course!"

"Your brothers' clothes also fit Se'tak and Selas very well and were a welcome addition to their diminished wardrobe," T'Alora added.

Poleia nodded. "That is gratifying to hear."

Casey pointed at the bags in T'Alora's and Poleia's hands. "Is this everything?"

T'Alora nodded. "This is indeed all of my luggage."

"Then let's get out of here! I left Stalvek in charge of your welcome home dinner; I want to make sure he doesn't burn the apartment down."

"He has become surprisingly more adept at navigating the kitchen than he had been previously, thanks to our combined tutelage," she replied.

Casey's eyebrow jumped up and she let out a good hearty laugh. They strolled out of the shuttle port—again arm-in-arm—to hail a taxi and T'Alora could not help but smirk at her friends. It was indeed good to be 'home'.


	32. Chapter 32

**Employment Opportunity**

_**12 Trelevin Street, Apartment 4, New Shi'Kahr, **_**2282.41, 1413 hours. **Her first few days after returning from Terra were fairly tumultuous but now that T'Alora was settled she had re-established her previous routine. That Saturday afternoon she was sitting at the kitchen table eating a carrot stick and reviewing her interstellar cartography notes; Casey and Poleia were at the market and Stalvek was down the hall in his and Casey's bedroom. All was tranquil and serene.

"I still don't think you should've bought the pla-savas*—it doesn't look ripe enough," Casey uttered as she entered the apartment laden with groceries; Poleia was by her side similarly encumbered.

"The fruit is ripe and you will see for yourself tonight."

Their friend simply rolled her eyes heavenward and headed toward the stasis unit. "Alright."

T'Alora felt the corners of her mouth tic up at the friendly exchange. "May I assist you?"

"Yes," Poleia swiftly replied, depositing a bag before. The trio worked steadily and in 3.4 minutes all the groceries were where they belonged. Casey moved down the hall toward her room while T'Alora asked Poleia for her input on the material she had been studying.

No less than 15.7 seconds had passed before Casey's high pitched shriek carried loudly down the hall. Both women looked to each other in astonishment before hurrying to discover what was the matter. They entered Casey's room to find their friend clinging to Stalvek, her legs wrapped around his waist as she peppered his face with kisses, all while holding firm to a PADD in her right hand. As soon as he caught sight of them Stalvek's face flushed green.

"Casey…"

"Oh baby, this is amazing! I knew it, I—"

"Casey," Stalvek repeated more firmly, but still to no avail.

"I knew things were going to turn around for you! This is so incredible it's almost unbelievable!"

T'Alora cleared her throat and for the first time Casey stopped and pulled her face away from her t'hy'la's. She expected her friend would be embarrassed at being found in such a position, however, Casey's grin only broadened as she looked to her new audience. "T!" she cried, jumping down off Stalvek and waving the PADD like a flag, "How could you keep this from us?! And how can we ever thank you!?"

She inclined her head at her friend. "I must confess that I am wholly unwitting as to what you are talking about."

Casey finally stopped an eighth of a meter away; she appeared to be gauging the validity of her previous statement. "You're serious? You had nothing to do with this?" T'Alora looked to Stalvek for an indication as to what matter she should have had any involvement in but he was unforthcoming. Instead, Casey thrust the PADD into her hands. "Here," she said, "Read this."

She dutifully perused the missive and quickly discovered it was from her sa-mekh-al; not only that but the tone of the letter, in addition to the signature at the bottom, indicated that he had written it as well. In it she learned that her sa-mekh-al had offered Stalvek a job at the Embassy as his personal assistant. She handed the PADD back to Casey, surprised only in the manner of how the offer was made rather than by the offer itself. "I have had no involvement in this matter. I offer you my congratulations, Stalvek; I believe you are very well-suited to the task."

Casey rolled back and forth on her feet beaming with pride; but before Stalvek could reply Poleia interjected, "Am I to remain ignorant as to what has just transpired?"

"T'Alora's Sa-mekh-al offered Stalvek a job!" the young woman blurted out, "He's going to work as the Ambassador's personal assistant; and not just that, he…"

Unable to allow Casey to claim the honor alone, Stalvek intervened. "The position is contingent upon my completing my education."

Poleia quirked her head. "I was under the impression that you were unable to afford the tuition without the financial support of your clan."

"He's got a scholarship!" Casey delightedly squealed. She scrolled down to the proper paragraph in the letter. "Well, sort of. The Embassy has an arrangement with the VSA where all employees are allowed to take a certain number of credit hours free of charge; Ambassador Sarek said he'll arrange it so that Stalvek can complete his education while working part-time and then have a full-time position waiting for him after he's graduated! It's brilliant!" She turned and kissed Stalvek full on the lips, making his ears turn a deep jade color. "Oh Baby, I'm so proud of you…"

"Congratulations, Stalvek," Poleia repeated as they ducked out the door. They walked side-by-side in silence back toward the kitchen to resume their studies. "Every time I believe I have become accustomed to her emotive displays…" she murmured under her breath.

* * *

><p>* pla-savas = Vulcan blueblack fruit

**A/N:** Sorry it's such a quick little update but things are getting crazy here! Leave some love if you have the time! = D


	33. Chapter 33

**Priceless Treasures**

_**150 Greenleaf Street, San Francisco**_**, 2282.223, 1438 hours. **"T'Alora!" she heard Mama shout from downstairs, "Could you come give me a hand, please?!"

Leaving her reading behind she descended the staircase and found her mother in the basement standing in the midst of at least 11 different packing crates, all with _Enterprise _logos, with at least 8 more piled up along the far wall. Her eyebrow shot up as she surveyed the scene. "What is all of this?"

Mama pulled up an armful of clothing—items from Se'tak and Selas' babyhood, she recalled—before responding. "Just some stuff I had shipped here from the ship over the years; now's really the first time I've had to go through some of it and I was hoping you could help."

T'Alora took another look at the baby clothes. "Were you and Sa-mekh anticipating having another child?"

"What?" Mama glanced at the clothing in her hands. "Oh no, no."

"Then what is the purpose of keeping them in storage? Would they not be better served clothing other children?"

"Well yes, I suppose, but I've developed a certain sort of sentimental attachment to some of these clothes." She looked about her for one item in particular, pulling out a small, lilac colored outfit. "Like this one here, I could never get rid of this because every time I look at it I'm reminded of the day your sa-mekh and I brought you home."

T'Alora mentally appraised the garment, finding it difficult to believe that she was once so small; however, she could relate to her mother's predicament. There had been items of a personal nature stored in her former bedroom that had no monetary value yet she still wished they had survived, if only for the memories they evoked within her. "I understand."

Mama smiled and gestured at the opened crate. "Good, now how about you help me figure out where to put all of this…"

4.16 hours and 2.94 crates later T'Alora found herself sitting on the basement floor beside her mother covered in dust and 'walking down Memory Lane', as Mama insisted on telling every story accompanying each item she retrieved, making for little progress in their work.

She pulled a holo-album out and peered into the bottom of the crate. "This is the last item in this box."

"Great," Mama said, taking it in hand and powering it up. "We'll put it in the pile going upstairs." She flicked through a few of the photos, and while it may have been a result of the dust, T'Alora noted that her mother appeared to be tearing up. "Why don't we save the rest for another day, eh, Kiddo?"

"Of course."

She tried to rise but Mama impeded her progress with a hug. "Thanks for all your help."

"You are most welcome."

* * *

><p>She listened as her daughter headed up the stairs then turned back to the album; it was from her and Spock's wedding ceremony on the ship. So many wonderful memories…as she turned the page she was greeted by the sight of their first dance as husband and wife. The look on his face was priceless; to the untrained observer he seemed as reserved as ever but to her he looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of a public dance.<p>

"Nyota?" _Speak of the devil_… Spock poked his head downstairs and descended the steps in search of her. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," she replied, smiling broadly. Peering up at him it was hard not to notice the changes time had wrought—his face had a few more worry lines and there was more salt in his hair—but she still thought him as handsome as ever. As she passed the album up to him she wondered how she looked after all these years. "Look what I found."

He took the photos and as he did so extended a hand to help her up. "I remember this moment well." To her amazement he kept hold of her hand and his happiness thrummed across the bond as he began to hum the first several notes of their song.

"Spock," she said, twining her arms up around his neck, "You are just full of surprises today."

Instead of words he responded with a kiss.

* * *

><p><em><strong>150 Greenleaf Street, San Francisco<strong>_**, 2282.227, 1009 hours. **T'Alora returned to the basement again and again over the following days, carefully unpacking and cataloguing the belongings Mama had forwarded from the ship. Some of the items she discovered stunned her—Sa-mekh's ka'athyra, Selas' braille reader, and priceless pieces of Mama's jewelry, to name a few—but only because these were items used fairly regularly while at home. That her mother had had that amount of foresight to protect such highly prized possessions was rather incredible.

No sooner had she thought this then she pried off the cover of the crate in the far corner and her breath caught in her throat. _Bibi's blanket_…that too had been left on the ship, folded up with care and placed at the foot of her bed. If that had survived…

* * *

><p>Nyota walked in the back door after tending the garden and wiped the sweat off her brow, leaving a dirt smudge in it's place. She headed toward the stasis for a cold drink when a cry from the basement made her freeze then sent her scrambling. "T?" When her daughter did not immediately answer she grew even more concerned. "T'Alora?"<p>

A soft sob broke the silence and she found T'Alora on her knees beside one of the crates, half the contents strewn out rather haphazardly beside her. Nyota immediately recognized them as having come from her daughter's old bedroom and she wondered what trinket had elicited such an emotional response. "You saved him," T whispered.

"Saved who?" but as she drew near she saw that the item in her daughter's hands was none other than the carved, wooden, sehlat figurine Spock had made all those years ago.

"I-Chaya." Nyota didn't know what to say; she knew how important that figurine was to her but had no idea until now just how important it was to T'Alora too. "Mama, how did you know?" She flinched. This question she knew how to answer—unfortunately she knew that at this moment in time it would be unwise to do so.

"I just did, Sweetie; I can't tell you how or why but I just did."

Any other day such an unsatisfactory answer would have elicited quite a verbose response from her literal-minded daughter, however, today T stayed silent and cradled the toy sehlat in her hands. When she was recovered enough she returned to the crate and together they pored over priceless treasures thought long lost.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Another short and sweet chapter here just trying to set things up for the future. Hope you all enjoyed it!


	34. Chapter 34

**Identity Crisis**

_**Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr,**_** 2282.307, 1344 hours. **The relationship between T'Alora and Telnor had changed in the last 2.98 years of their acquaintance; gone were the afternoon sessions spent reigning in emotions and in it's place was a free and easy friendship steeped in academia. She had been working as his research assistant since the previous semester yet they were currently 'taking a break' (at his insistence) and indulging in a game of chess.

Telnor moved his rook forward. "T'Alora."

"Yes, Osu?" She matched his rook with her own.

"You will be graduating from the Academy in the coming Spring and I was wondering what thought you have given to your future employment."

He concentrated on his next move while she sat back and surveyed the board. "I have considered many options," she declared as he moved a bishop, "But I have not yet settled on any one course of action."

Telnor nodded. "That is wise." T'Alora moved her knight and he watched her closely. When she glanced over at him she caught a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "There is a former orensu* of mine currently in search of mechanical engineers. May I arrange an interview between the two of you? We both believe that you are well-suited to the position."

Her hand was poised in mid-air and her eyebrow flicked upward. He had discussed her with his former orensu? And they both believed this opportunity would be advantageous to her and her career? Then there was no question, of course she would accept.

"Very well," he replied.

T'Alora only felt marginally guilty when she beat him 38.3 minutes later.

* * *

><p>That evening she trod to her sa-mekh-al's house for their weekly dinner; meanwhile the whole of New Shi'Kahr waited on bated breath for the start of the rainy season. The streets were mostly empty and T'Alora moved quickly lest she get caught out in a sudden downpour. She was three blocks past Yenera Square when she came upon the Elder crouched along the walkway, picking up his errant groceries that had fallen out of a newly broken bag. Without hesitation she hurried to his side, easily picking up the scattered fruits and vegetables while the Elder slowly rose to his feet.<p>

Later she would repeatedly re-examine this moment and wonder how she did not recognize that something was amiss much sooner than she did. Although there was nothing remarkable about the man her 'gut' fairly screamed that there was more to him than met the eye.

The Elder locked eyes with her at the same instant the sky finally opened up; at the time she attributed the shock in his countenance to the sudden downpour.

* * *

><p>"T'Alora."<p>

He whispered her name so softly that only he heard it. They had not been in one another's company for 19.4 years and while she had grown into a poised and beautiful young woman in that time he was certain he would have recognized her anywhere.

* * *

><p>The Elder did not immediately move and she stood before him fast becoming drenched. She shivered and he seemed to recollect himself, propelling himself forward as swiftly as he could manage while gesturing for her to follow him down the block and around the corner. At the entrance to the last building on the dead-end street he entered in his personal code and ushered her inside.<p>

His apartment was on the first floor: it was small, quiet, and sparsely furnished. T'Alora moved toward the kitchen to unburden herself of his groceries while the Elder strode down the hall, returning shortly with two large towels just as she hung her wet traveling cloak on the rack by the door to drip dry.

"Thank you for your assistance. Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you care to join me in some tea and honeycakes?"

Honeycakes…though he would never make such a claim himself honeycakes were one of her sa-mekh's favorite foods and the mention of them made her yearn for her family. "That would be agreeable…"

"Selek," he hastened to reply. "You may call me Selek."

"That would be agreeable, Selek. I am T'Alora."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." He returned to the kitchen and she sat at the table staring after him. What a curious thing for him to say—and so very human. "I must apologize," he called out, interrupting her reverie, "For not having more to offer. I only returned to the city this morning after a month away tending to business on Terra. I am a consultant for Starfleet."

She had begun to arrange his fruit in the empty bowl in the center of the table when stopped. Even after the Destruction not many Vulcans voluntarily associated themselves with Starfleet. "Do you often have occasion to travel to Terra for business?"

Selek set her mug down before her, the ghost of a frown tugging at his lips. "I venture there very infrequently. I prefer the solitude of my permanent dwelling here, located six kilometers outside the city." He must have known what she was about to ask as he replied, "I keep this residence primarily for guests and my own infrequent trips into town. Travel does not agree with me as much as it once did." He looked beyond her and off into the distance somewhat wistfully. Selek's mannerisms were eerily reminiscent of someone, only at the moment she could not place who, and the resultant sensation bothered her. "You are a student at the VSA?" he asked, re-directing the conversation.

"Yes."

"And what is your focus?"

"I have a dual focus in mechanical engineering and astrophysics," she replied, wiping away the water trickling down the side of her neck.

His eyes widened infinitesimally. "That is an ambitious curriculum indeed, T'Alora. Are you planning on a career in space?"

She took a sip of her tea and set the mug aside, careful to avoid Elder Selek's scrutinizing gaze. "I have not made any career decisions at this time," she repeated, thinking of her earlier conversation with Telnor. "I prefer to keep my options open."

He tapped the tabletop with one inordinately long, graceful finger, while mulling over a thought. "I think that you are destined for the stars whether you plan for it or not. Just like…" he stopped himself rather abruptly and snatched the plate of honeycakes and his mug off the table as if to re-fill them. "Would you care for more tea?"

He was curious, to be sure, and while she would have preferred to indulge her curiosity longer her internal chronometer bade her do otherwise. "No, thank you. I have already taken up too much of your time and have a prior commitment with my sa-mekh-al."

Selek was already behind the kitchen counter when next he spoke. "Ah, yes. It would not do to keep Sarek waiting."

She froze again, clutching her travel cloak. "I did not specify that my engagement this evening was with anyone named Sarek." Her eyes narrowed in on him. "You are familiar with my clan?"

"I am. T'Alora, I spoke out of turn; forgive me. I did not mean to startle you…"

"I am not startled. In what way are you familiar with my clan?"

Selek moved toward her and she backed up several steps toward the door, never letting her eyes off him. "I am a very distant relation. A cousin."

He was lying; she knew that as certainly as she knew her own name. A tremor of fear and anger ran up her spine as she flung the wet cloak back on over her shoulders. "You have spent too much time on Terra, Osu. You do not lie well, and while I cannot discern what your true business is with my clan I suggest that you keep your distance." She activated the door and stepped out into the hall without a backward glance.

* * *

><p>Selek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to her footfalls echo down the hall. When she was out on the street he made his way to the comm. to inform Sarek of what had just transpired. He was advancing in years and he only hoped that the family would accept this excuse and forgive him for his lapse.<p>

* * *

><p>She entered the house drenched to the bone and unable to shake the sense of foreboding that followed her from Selek's apartment. Determined not to let her unresolved feelings toward the unusual Elder ruin her evening she set them aside along with her cloak just as her sa-mekh-al emerged from his study.<p>

"T'Alora, it is pleasing to see you again."

"And you as well, Sa-mekh-al. Forgive my tardiness, I…"

"It is that which I would speak with you about. Come," he said, ushering her into the living room, "We have much to discuss."

She followed him and watched as he settled into one of the more comfortable armchairs. Settling down on the sofa opposite she waited for the chastisement that never came.

"I understand that you met Elder Selek this evening." At the mention of his name she bristled and sat even more stiffly in her seat. "I am certain that you have many questions regarding his connection to this clan, as well you should, and I intend to answer them. However you should know that he is not a threat to us."

One eyebrow rose skeptically yet still she said nothing; her intrigue was too great.

"24.7 years ago a rogue Romulan known as Nero utilized his mining ship to destroy Vulcan. He was transported here from the future by an anomalous black hole that had been created using red matter." Sa-mekh-al paused and T'Alora wondered why he was reciting a history she knew so well. "What is not commonly known is that Nero was not only from the future but also from an alternate dimension, and with him came another traveler—a Vulcan. It was this traveler whom he wished to harm when he destroyed our home planet."

This time both eyebrows shot up in sudden comprehension. "Selek."

Sa-mekh-al nodded. "That is correct. In the alternate timeline the planet Romulus was threatened by an exploding supernova; the Vulcan Science Academy had the means to prevent this catastrophic event and Selek volunteered for the mission. Using the red matter his plan was to intercept the supernova before the planet was destroyed. He was unsuccessful and Romulus did not survive. Nero witnessed this failure and held Selek personally accountable for the disaster; upon his arrival in this timeline he sought retribution against him. You are aware of the rest."

T'Alora was more aware that she resembled a gaping fish the way she opened and closed her mouth but her mind was racing too fast to form a more proper and articulate response. In one simple statement her understanding of recent historical events had dramatically shifted. Selek may not have personally 'pulled the trigger' but he was indirectly responsible for the death of her ko-mekh-il and six billion other Vulcans.

"There is more…" but before he could explain the door chime rang and her sa-mekh-al excused himself. Alone in the room T'Alora struggled to make sense of what she had just learned. Selek was a Vulcan. He was from the future, but not the future of this timeline. He knew her family rather intimately, if Sa-mekh-al's familiarity with him and his story was anything to go by.

He worked for Starfleet. He enjoyed honeycakes. And he had warm brown eyes.

Human eyes.

She stood as Sa-mekh-al and his guest returned, surprising them both with her formal greeting. "Greetings, S'chn T'gai Spokh cha Sarek." Selek blanched. Now that all was apparent to her it was startling to see the familial resemblance between her sa-mekh-al and his 'son' who was perhaps thirty years his senior; it was even more startling to see her sa-mekh all over the aged man's face and in his mannerisms.

Furious over the deception T'Alora bounded into the hall before Selek—she would never think of him as Spock or Sa-mekh, no matter who he claimed to be—could attempt to stop her. "T'Alora, we never meant to mislead you…"

"…and yet you never meant to inform me as to your existence either," she coolly replied.

And with that parting shot she left.

* * *

><p>T'Alora returned to the apartment to find it unoccupied. It appeared that this evening was full of surprises. Turning to the comm. she dialed her parents intending to confront them for their part in the deception—and she had no doubt in her mind that they were indeed a part of the cover-up—yet she was never more grateful to encounter her brother on the line instead.<p>

"Hey T." He looked at her rather quizzically. "What's up? Everything alright?"

"Se'tak, you will never believe what I have just discovered…" It took 42.3 minutes to bring him up to speed and in all that time her brother never said more than 1 or 2 words.

"Wait, wait, wait," he cried once she was through, "You mean to tell me that there's TWO of Sa-mekh running around out there?!" He gestured at the blue sky out the nearby window.

"No. There is one Sa-mekh, and he is with you on Terra. The other man may be a genetic duplicate but he is not our sa-mekh."

"Oh man! This is…this is just…"

At that moment there was a shot of movement near the corner of the screen. "Selas." Her youngest brother stepped forward and stood beside Se'tak. "How much have you overheard?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I have heard all. T'Alora, are there truly two of Sa-mekh in this universe?"

"Yes."

"And the other man…"

"Is responsible for the Destruction, yes."

Se'tak's eyes just bugged further out of his head. "Wow. I can't believe nobody told us about him before!" She nodded in agreement. "So, what's he like?"

T'Alora stared at him blankly. "I do not understand your query."

Her brother scoffed and rolled his eyes while Selas pulled up a second chair. "Does he act the same as Sa-mekh? Does he even really _look _exactly the same? I mean, you didn't know it was him right off so they must be different to some extent…come to think of it, how old is the other Sa-mekh anyway?"

She bristled at how easily spoke of the other man and accepted his story. "He is _not _'the other Sa-mekh'—and I would estimate that Selek is approximately 130 years older than our Sa-mekh, though I do not know this with any certainty."

"So when our Sa-mekh is that age we'll be in our early 100's. Cool."

Before she could correct him Selas replied, "T'Alora will be 124, you will be 120, and I will be 116 standard years old at that time."

Se'tak grinned. "Like I said before, cool."

"It is not 'cool'," she huffed, finally letting her frustration show. "We were deceived by Sa-mekh-al, Sa-mekh, Mama and Selek. They had no logical reason to conceal this truth from us."

"Agreed," Selas replied.

Again, Se'tak just rolled his eyes. "It's not THAT bad, T. They probably never told us because it'd be too hard to explain…"

"What would be too hard to explain?" Mama waltzed into the room and peered over the boys' shoulders at the screen. "Hi Sweetie! This is a surprise. How are you? How're things going at school?"

She watched as Sa-mekh came in as well and stood just behind Mama—and already T'Alora began drawing unwanted comparisons to Selek. They stood in exactly the same attitude, hands clasped tightly behind their backs, and in her mind's eye she could see their left hand encircling their right wrist. Selek's hair was white and his face deeply lined with age; Sa-mekh had very few gray hairs interspersed on his head and the wrinkles around his eyes had only just begun to form in the last 2 years, a prelude of things to come.

Now that she knew the truth it was hard not to see Selek in Sa-mekh and vice versa.

Not being in the mood for frivolous pleasantries T'Alora replied, "Why were we never informed as to Selek's existence?"

Sa-mekh's expression did not change but Mama's face fell and she turned to Sa-mekh in shock before glancing at the screen. "What do you know about him?"

"_Mama_, we know there's another Sa-mekh running around," Se'tak declared, ignoring her deflection. "T met him on New Vulcan."

Selas elbowed their brother hard in the ribs. "He is _not_ another Sa-mekh. He is a future version of Sa-mekh from another timeline."

Throughout this exchange T'Alora kept her cold gaze locked on _her_ sa-mekh. "We had no pertinent reason for informing you of Selek's existence in this timeline," he replied.

She narrowed her eyes, her words cold, calculated, and designed to inflict maximum damage. "A lie of omission is still a lie." The tic was small but she saw it as she hurled Sa-mekh's own words back at him.

"T, Honey, we didn't do this to hurt any of you, we…"

Suddenly she no longer had any desire to listen to their justifications. For the first time in her life T'Alora flicked the comm. off on her mother mid-sentence and walked away. No sooner was she settled on the bed in her room reading from one of her texts when an incoming call from San Francisco rang out. T'Alora continued to ignore such hails for well over an hour before collecting her things and heading for the library.

* * *

><p><em><strong>12 Trelevin Street, Apartment 4, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2282.309, 2207 hours.** She returned to the apartment late in the evening to find both her roommates already on the premises. Casey and Poleia shot each other a look before following her with their eyes as she hung her bag on the coat rack and began to take off her shoes.

Poleia cleared her throat. "You have received numerous hails this afternoon, from your parents as well as your sa-mekh-al."

T'Alora continued toward the kitchen. "Understood."

The springs in the sofa cushions squeaked as Casey sat forward. "Don't you think it's time to maybe call them back, maybe let them explain about whatever it is that's got you so upset?"

"They have had 21.03 years with which to explain themselves and I feel no such compunction to return their calls and listen to them now."

Casey edged closer, nodding along. "Ok…just don't wait too long, alright? You never know what tomorrow might bring."

After that her roommates let her be and T'Alora stood in the kitchen waiting for her meal to heat, ruminating on her _very_ logical anger.

* * *

><p>The following day did indeed bring with it something unexpected—an unwanted visitor in the form of Selek. She spotted him pacing about the quadrangle, hands clasped behind his back, eagerly scanning the faces of all who passed. She considered retreating back into the lobby of the building she had just exited but before she could execute this maneuver she was spotted.<p>

"T'Alora."

With long strides he hurried toward her and she brushed past him, clutching her PADD to her chest. Surprisingly Selek managed to keep up, though with some degree of effort.

"I must attend my next lecture."

"I understand." Still, he reached out to her. "I am not here to stand in the way of your education, I only ask that since you will not acknowledge nor return any calls from the family that perhaps you will permit me the opportunity to explain our collective actions. If you will come to my apartment this afternoon…"

She whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes at him, no longer caring that her emotions were shining through. "I am unavailable this afternoon."

Selek took a half-step back. "Then if you will come by any day this week when you are free I will be sure and make myself available. I leave again for Terra next Tuesday and would like to discuss—and hopefully resolve—this matter with you before that time."

"Understood."

She left him in her wake as she all but ran to the lecture hall.

* * *

><p>T'Alora managed to avoid Selek and the rest of her family until lunchtime the following Monday, her curiosity and the gnawing pit of anger stewing in her stomach both too great to ignore. Without any forewarning she made her way to the tiny apartment near Yenera Square and when Selek answered the door after one chime she charged through without so much as a word of greeting. The place was just as she remembered it looking ten days ago and they even re-took their same seats around the kitchen table.<p>

"I am certain that you have many questions," he began, "And I intend to answer them all fully and to the best of my ability."

It was true, she did have questions, and yet now that she was here T'Alora did not know where to begin. She sat at the table quietly fuming, acutely aware that Selek was studying her closely. She was about call him out on it when he apologized.

"Forgive me; it has been 19.4 years since I last saw you in person, and each time I look upon you I fear it will be the last."

Given everything else she had had to deal with recently she did not bother to hide her shock. "We have met before?"

"Yes, though I am not surprised that you do not remember given that you were 1.69 standard years of age at the time. It was that inauspicious meeting that led us to conclude it was best to withhold knowledge of my existence from you and your brothers."

T'Alora's eyes went wide; she did not remember this encounter at all. Unlike her full-Vulcan counterparts her childhood memories did not become more concrete until she was nearly 3.1 years of age—a deficit she believed she hid well.

Selek began without preamble. "Captain Kirk had invited me to travel aboard the _Enterprise_ on it's journey to the Demoid system. On my second evening aboard your parents asked me to their quarters for a private family dinner. I instantly recognized what an aesthetically pleasing and intelligent child you were, just as you are now an aesthetically pleasing and intelligent young woman." His voice softened and he looked at her full of awe and pride—a look she recognized her own Sa-mekh gifting her throughout her life. "You were well looked after and content and I could clearly see the best of both of your parents in you.

"As you may have already noticed my control is not as exact as it was in my youth and I have faltered many times in my old age, most particularly on that day. So much is changed between this timeline and my own and yet so much is the same as well. Your presence evoked in me a yearning for a family of my own—something I never accomplished. You see, in my timeline your mother and I were close colleagues and friends; we were never married and I never had any children." His eyes misted over and he sipped his water with a trembling hand. "Forgive me; I digress.

"You studied me all evening—curious, yet cautious too, as you were the first evening we met here—and it was not until after dessert that you forsook your sa-mekh's lap for mine. I obliged you and as I lifted you up you touched the side of my face; such a natural reaction for you to have and yet I was not prepared. My shields were not what they should have been and you saw me for who I really was as well as simultaneously experiencing my inner emotional turmoil.

"You became confused and distraught, unable to comprehend why I was Spock when I was clearly not your sa-mekh. There was no easy explanation to give you and you were so young…" Selek's voice drifted off and she noticed that he was now looking beyond her, as if staring into the very past itself. "That evening, once your mother consoled you and you were asleep, the three of us called Sarek to consult on how best to proceed. We did not want to mislead you but neither were we willing to further upset you. It was eventually decided that I would keep myself separate from the family and that my true identity would not be revealed. Over the years as you—and later your brothers—grew older we revisited the issue again yet never could reach a consensus over whether or not I should be introduced to you.

"However, I have kept in regular contact with Sarek, Spock, and Nyota; your mother was even so kind as to include me in her quarterly family newsletters, which was how I recognized you outside Yenera Square. In my fatigue from my journey I slipped again and said too much and you discovered the truth." He sighed and sat back against the seat while she remained unchanged. In truth she was just as shocked as she had been on the day of their second encounter. "Your anger has some merit but it is not entirely logical, T'Alora. Your parents acted in a manner that they believed was in your best interests, however misguided you believe their actions were."

Suddenly she was awash in feelings and yet she struggled not to show much they affected her. Her anger towards her parents was somewhat abated though not entirely gone—she was also saddened by Selek's predicament as well as the position her parents had been placed in and the position in which she had placed them in most recently by her behavior. It was all terribly unsettling and she sat in silence for several minutes longer before responding "I…I believe I understand. At the moment of disclosure I was unaware of all the facts."

Selek—for she still could not think of him as Spock—nodded in agreement. "I am familiar with this phenomena as well. Over the course of my life I have found it best to reserve judgment until all facts have been made evident. Do you not now agree?"

"Yes," T'Alora quietly replied, "I do."

While she continued to ruminate Selek rose and entered the kitchen, producing a plate of honeycakes upon his return. "My weakness," he admitted as he set the plate down on the table, "Though I find I have no desire at this stage in my life to curb it." His eyes glistened in amusement and for the first time in his presence she smiled too.

"Indeed."

* * *

><p>It was a further 2.1 hours before she left Selek's dwelling, questioning him at length about his life and in turn responding to his questions about her own, before heading back to her own apartment. Her roommates being in class at the time she had the place to herself and stood before the comm., vacillating over whether or not to call her parents. The hour was late in San Francisco, and yet…<p>

She dialed the number before she had even fully committed to the idea and her sa-mekh answered in the space of 1 ring, almost as if in anticipation of her communication. "T'Alora." His voice contained a great measure of relief.

"Sa-mekh."

For several seconds they were content merely to stare at one another, having gone a full 12.8 days without speaking—their longest estrangement since the _Enterprise_ had been lost in deep space. Then, suddenly, they both decided to speak at once.

"I…"

"Your mother and I…"

T'Alora stopped, as did Sa-mekh, and she nodded at him. "Continue."

"I am thankful that you have called. Your mother has been most anxious since you abruptly terminated all communication."

"I know. Sa-mekh, I wish to—"

He interrupted her. "No, T'Alora. Please allow me to speak first." She stopped and waited for him to begin again. "Your mother and I are imperfect beings. The decisions we made after you were first introduced to Selek were made—"

"In my best interest," she finished. "I know. He explained all to me."

Sa-mekh nodded. "Then I must thank him for this reconciliation as well."

She glanced off-screen briefly at the view outside. "He will be returning to San Francisco in 4 days time."

"Yes."

"Perhaps it would be best to introduce him to Se'tak and Selas since they are already aware of his existence."

"Perhaps." Sa-mekh shifted in his seat and she watched how his whole demeanor changed. Testing a hypothesis, T'Alora continued on. "Selek is very isolated here."

"It is by his own design," Sa-mekh quickly supplied. "By his own admission he has greatly altered our reality and has consequently chosen to sequester himself to prevent any further pollution to this timeline."

Her eyebrows knit together in an attempt to puzzle him out. "You resent him."

His eyes flew open at her unexpected remark. "I…" He debated his choice of words. "I find being in his presence for a prolonged period of time _unsettling_."

T'Alora soaked that knowledge in; and while her own misgivings toward Selek had dissipated over the course of the last 2.33 hours she too could understand why her sa-mekh thought that way. "I understand."

He canted his head slightly. "Though perchance your meeting him has opened the way for more candid and frequent communications between him and the rest of the family," he said with a nod.

She smiled slightly as she spoke. "That would be most logical."

* * *

><p>* orensu = Vulkhansu, student<p> 


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:** Hi all! Hope you like this latest update. I'm posting early because I'm going to be in a wedding this weekend! So exciting to watch another couple get launched into their new lives together = D

* * *

><p><strong>A Most Intriguing Offer<strong>

_**Kemar's Tea Shop, New Shi'Kahr,**_** 2283.11, 1354 hours.** T'Alora sat at her table, coolly sipping a cup of tea while keeping a close eye on the door. Their appointment had been scheduled and re-scheduled four times due to Evanna's rapidly changing schedule. She tried to establish the nature of Evanna's business from Telnor but he remained unusually vague on any details; and after her fifth attempt at eliciting a response was rebuffed T'Alora gave up the subject altogether. She reasoned that her inquiries would be better directed toward Evanna herself if and when they did meet.

As she waited she mused on her upcoming interview and reflected on other employment opportunities available to her. Over the break she had sent out several resumes for various positions situated on New Vulcan, Terra, and abroad—so far she had only heard back from the Mars Colony, offering her a place as a maintenance engineer in one of the bio-domes. T'Alora did not want to work on the Mars Colony, however, at this moment in time, with little other experience to recommend her, she was grateful to have an offer.

At 1400 hours exactly a woman entered the café and looked about the room. She appeared to be approximately 75 years of age with brown hair cut short and close to her head; she also had piercing blue eyes that stood in stark contrast to her dull blue/gray robes. Her bearing spoke of great authority and as Evanna spotted her and made her way across the room T'Alora could not help but draw comparisons to her Uncle Jim. She rose and stood beside the table, her hand held up in the ta'al, a gesture Evanna repeated. "Greetings, T'Alora. I am E'nit L'reh Evanna." She pulled out a chair and sat down, signaling for T'Alora to also re-take her seat. "I apologize for having to re-schedule this meeting; I am discovering that the work of a captain is never finished."

"You are a captain?"

Evanna's eyebrow rose curiously. "What has Telnor told you about my work?"

"He has not told me anything other then that you were looking for mechanical engineers," T'Alora replied.

"That would be his response," she said, the corners of her mouth ticking upward slightly. T'Alora was uncertain—she had only met the woman 41.6 seconds prior—but she thought she detected a great deal of amusement in her expression. "T'Alora, I work for the Vulcan Space Program. I have recently received a promotion and am actively recruiting new members for the program and, more personally, for my crew."

She sucked in a breath as her eyes went wide. This was not the interview T'Alora had been expecting, nor was it an opportunity she wished to pursue. The loss of her first home affected her deeply, in ways that she was still reeling from 1.03 years on. She doubted she could ever find contentment in space employment.

"You are displeased," Evanna remarked.

"No," she replied a little too hastily, "It is simply that I do not believe I am qualified enough for the position."

"Truly?" A waiter came by to take her order and refresh T'Alora's cup. When they were alone again she said, "Telnor showed me the portions of your thesis that he had available; your theories could revolutionize warp travel…"

"I merely propose an increase in the efficacy of dilithium crystal warp engines which I have yet to prove."

"You have also traveled in space extensively and are already quite familiar with space-faring protocols due to your parents' positions within Starfleet," Evanna concluded.

T'Alora closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. It was as she suspected then—Evanna was attempting to recruit her for her _name_, not her own merits and abilities. Contrary to popular belief, Vulcans were not above employing such base tactics to further their own agendas when it suited their purposes, and the daughter of such well-known and respected Starfleet officers would do much for the newly established Vulcan equivalent. She rose abruptly from the table and reached for her bag to retrieve her credit chit to pay the café. "I must decline your offer."

Evanna appeared nonplussed by her brusqueness. "Why?"

"I cannot help you."

"I have already told you that you can."

"I _will not_ help you." T'Alora cringed a little inside; she had not wanted to display her anger so blatantly. She saw the Captain crinkle her brow before she walked away. T'Alora was nearly to the exit when Evanna called her back, saying, "Your lineage is immaterial to me."

She paused just before the door and looked back over her shoulder. Evanna remained seated at the table completely unfazed. "I do not believe you."

One eyebrow shot up sharply. "There is no logic in lying." The waiter deposited her tea and Evanna took it in hand, slowly bringing it up to her lips. T'Alora studied her closely but could draw no conclusions from either her little speech or her body language and so returned to the table.

"The Vulcan Space Program is still in it's infancy," the Captain remarked, "And could benefit greatly from someone with your expertise. Many of our recruits have never traveled extensively off-planet and are unfamiliar with the procedures in place. That you already possess this experience would make you a colleague others could turn to for assistance."

T'Alora nodded; while she had never experienced it personally, growing up she had witnessed the struggle many new ensigns faced in the months of their first long-term deployment. It stood to reason that Vulcan explorers would face similar difficulties.

"Your salary would be commensurate with your rank and you would have access to living quarters at our facility outside New Shannai'Khar. You would also have access to all of our equipment and any requisite materials in order to prove or disprove your thesis."

Her eyebrow shot up. The offer Evanna was proposing went well beyond anything T'Alora knew she had any right to expect considering she was untried. "Truly?"

Evanna nodded. "I have already stated that I have reviewed your work, and while I am not as learned in warp mechanics as I should be even I recognize the intelligence behind the simplicity of your design. The difficulty lies in creating the necessary components to bring it to fruition; it's longevity will also need to be tested."

"Agreed." What Evanna did not know was that she had already attempted a build (albeit on a much smaller scale) but was unable to move beyond the theoretical due to a lack of resources. The gears of her mind began to churn at the possibilities…

Perhaps sensing that she already had her 'on the hook', Evanna retrieved her PADD and sent off a missive. "This message contains my personal contact information so that we will no longer need to communicate through Telnor," she declared as T'Alora's PADD chimed, "And the attachment contains all the particulars of the position as well as a formal offer of employment. You would not be eligible to begin until after your graduation, so I suggest you take this time to carefully consider all your options. Should you have any further questions about the position that are not outlined in the attached materials do not hesitate to contact me."

The Captain was preparing to rise from the table when T'Alora stopped her. "Were I to accept this offer I would have one more stipulation."

Evanna accepted the credit chit offered her by the waiter. "And what would that stipulation be?"

"I would want my clan affiliation to be kept confidential from all save for any Healers in charge of my care. I will not have my image nor those of my family be affiliated with or used to promote the program in any way."

The Captain signed and handed the receipt back to the employee. "You are most interesting, T'Alora," she replied. "I believe that is a stipulation the VSP can readily accommodate—assuming you accept our offer of employment." And with that parting shot she left the café, her robes billowing out behind her like a cloud.

T'Alora remained at her table for a further 24.5 minutes reviewing the information left her and contemplating whether she was as good a fit for the Vulcan Space Program as Evanna believed. When she left she did not have a ready answer.

* * *

><p><em><strong>12 Trelevin Street, Apartment 4, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2283.123, 1609 hours.** In the weeks subsequent to her meeting with Evanna, T'Alora received numerous offers of employment; indeed, she even received offers from agencies she had not even applied to, such as Starfleet. They was prepared to offer her a full-time civilian contractor's position at their building plant in Iowa and the starting pay was much more than what she thought was appropriate given her level of experience.

And yet, with each offer that came in, T'Alora found herself comparing it against the one Evanna had pitched for the VSP; stranger still was how she found each offer wanting. Unsure of who else to turn to she consulted her sa-mekh-al upon the matter. He listened quite attentively and when she was finished declared, "I believe, T'Alora, that your decision has already been made."

She contacted Evanna the next day and signed her acceptance letter.


	36. Chapter 36

**Endings and Beginnings**

_** Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr,**_** 2283.138, 1502 hours.** "You guys!" Casey squealed, "We're graduating!"

Seated beside her, Poleia broke eye contact with the professors and speakers now gathering on the raised dais. "Casey, you have once again proven that you have quite the knack for pointing out the obvious."

"HA! Who'd have thought four years ago that you'd have such a sense of humor!?" She wrapped her friend up in her arms. When she was satisfied Casey slung an arm over each of their shoulders. "I can't believe we're finally here…"

T'Alora agreed, but rather than give in to her emotions she turned to look back at her family. They were seated some twenty meters behind in the section reserved for families and friends of the graduates. She spotted Selas first, dressed in new robes and with his head cocked toward the platform, waiting patiently for the ceremony to begin; beside him sat Mama, grinning so hard T'Alora knew her cheeks had to hurt. Sa-mekh was next, straight-backed and straight-faced, though when she looked deep into his eyes she saw his pride for her shining through. Se'tak sat sandwiched between Sa-mekh and Sa-mekh-al, tugging on the collar of his robes and scratching his neck-he always complained that Vulcan clothes did not agree with him. Last was Sa-mekh-al, and a trill of giddy happiness shot through her when she detected the faintest smile on his lips.

Selek was also in attendance, though she knew not where, as he wished to keep a low profile so as not to "mar her important day".

Across the aisle sat Casey's aunt and sister, and 3 rows behind them was Ferlan with the other eleven members of the T'nar M'ren clan. There was quite an assemblage gathered to listen to the keynote speakers. Unlike Terran graduation ceremonies there would be no diplomas dispensed or individual accolades presented; the spokesmen and women would dole out their final pieces of advice to the students and then the gathering would disperse. The families had joint dinner reservations for later that evening to further commemorate the occasion.

This moment was 4.1 years in the making—and as Professor T'Neris stepped up to the platform to call the ceremony to order, T'Alora could not help but crack a small smile of her own for all her accomplishments and for the bright future that lay ahead of her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>12 Trelevin Street, Apartment 4, New Shi'Kahr, <strong>_**2283.140, 2216 hours.** She and Poleia stood in the middle of the living room, eying the numerous packing crates stacked up against the walls around them. They had spent the majority of the day collecting their personal belongings for removal. What items they no longer wished to keep had either been sold or donated; all that remained was what they needed to see them through the next several days. Casey was returning to Terra with her sister and aunt in the morning and Poleia would be on the transport to New Gol the following day. Only she and Stalvek would remain until the lease ran out at the end of the month.

Casey padded barefoot down the hall, a blanket draped over one arm and a bottle of champagne in the other. "I kicked Stalvek out," she declared quite proudly. Setting the bottle aside she spread the blanket out and sat herself down. "Can one of you get some glasses?"

T'Alora duly entered the kitchen and retrieved three mis-matched glasses from the donation bin that was being collected in the morning. "I do hope you are speaking in jest with regards to Stalvek," Poleia said as she easily sank to the floor.

Head cocked to the side and tongue stuck firmly between her lips, Casey continued to work on the cork. "Hmm? Oh I didn't literally kick him out, I just asked him to leave for a little while. Since this is our last night together I told him I wanted it to be just us girls." Suddenly the cork popped and the fizzy beverage began to spill out. "Ha ha, yes! Oh shit, quick, give me a glass…" T'Alora thrust one into her waiting hand as she sat down to join them.

Three glasses were soon poured and dispensed. Before Casey could say anything more T'Alora held her glass aloft. "I believe that it is tradition for a toast to be made, correct?"

Casey grinned and raised her glass. "By all means, take it away, T."

"4.1 years ago, on the first day that we met, I admit to having reservations regarding our relationship. We each had and have such different personalities that I was uncertain that we would be compatible long enough to survive the school year, let alone the whole of our upper level academic career."

Poleia tried to interject. "T'Alora…"

"That said," she rushed on, "I admit that I now find it difficult—no, unfathomable—to imagine my life without either of you in it. You have been great sources of camaraderie and support and I will miss each of you greatly when we go our separate ways." She clinked glasses with the other girls and took a small sip of the fizzy beverage.

Casey was busily wiping the moisture from her eyes while Poleia replied, "I could not have expressed our friendship better myself." She took another sip from her glass.

"You guys!" Casey bawled, "You're making me cry!"

Over her head, T'Alora and Poleia shared a teasing smirk. "Emotional creature, is she not?"

"Indeed; most emotive."

"Stop it!" Casey half-laughed, half-sobbed, smacking her lightly in the arm. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "You two are terrible, you know that?"

"I believe the word you are looking for is incorrigible," said Poleia.

"Ugh!" Casey threw back her head and took a healthy gulp from her glass. They sat together in companionable silence for several seconds, each lost in their own thoughts. "I'm going to miss you guys too."

Poleia scooted closer and gave her a somewhat awkward one-armed hug. "Do not think of this separation as a final farewell, Casey; think of it as a temporary parting of ways. We will communicate often and see each other as frequently as we are able."

Casey nodded as she sniffled. "If only I'd been able to find work here…"

"And yet your services were required on Terra," T'Alora interjected. "So much the better, as your Vulkhansu is nearly perfect and you will be better able to aid both our species with your flawless translations."

"Now you're just trying to make me feel better." Her friend picked up the champagne and gently sloshed it around in the bottle. "Anyone want some more?"

Poleia held out her glass rather quickly. "The taste is quite intriguing and very refreshing." After another sip T'Alora offered hers up as well. The trio reminisced into the early hours of the morning and awoke after only 3.6 hours sleep to accompany Casey to the transport terminal. It was far from an easy farewell—many tears were shed—and yet T'Alora knew that this was (as Poleia had so eloquently put it) not a permanent farewell but a temporary parting. Theirs was a lifelong friendship that would survive the distance as much as the passing of years.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Khar, <strong>_**2283.152, 0859 hours.** T'Alora retrieved her duffle from the back of the flitter cab and proceeded to the front gate, her sure steps never betraying the nervousness she felt deep inside. As she approached a rather large Vulcan man stepped out of the booth with a PADD in his hand. "State your purpose."

"Cadet T'Alora, reporting for duty as ordered by Captain Evanna."

The guard consulted his PADD. "Identification." She reached into her robes and produced her identification card which he swiped and handed back. When she was cleared the man stepped aside and entered the code to open the gate. "You may proceed."

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, T'Alora crossed the threshold and began a new phase in her life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I hope you enjoyed this chapter; it's the last one I'll be posting for "Forging" for awhile. I'm going to be switching gears for a bit and posting more in "Being Se'tak" so be sure you have it in your alerts if you want to catch the updates. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Selas, I just haven't had a chance to start writing his story out yet! As always, thank you all so much for sticking with me!


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: **Welcome back everybody! I hope you enjoy this new chapter in T'Alora's life.

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><p><span><strong>The <strong>_**T'Kara Mol**_** and the **_**Mahar'oth**_

_** Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Kahr, **_**2285.59, 1157 hours.** T'Alora shimmied through the overhead compartment, tools in hand, searching for the malfunctioning component. After the initial discovery Commander Ulshan ordered her to re-check all the connections and she began to suspect the wires were of inferior quality than advertised. The _T'Kara Mol_ was 9.2 weeks out from it's maiden voyage and as a member of it's crew and one of the lead engineers in the design and implementation of it's warp engine T'Alora was determined to search the ship from top to bottom and correct any glitches she encountered.

There—0.47 meters ahead of her lay the problem. Her eyes narrowed in on the frayed wires and she laid her tools out beside her to immediately set to work. 12.8 minutes later the faulty wiring had been removed and she was set to install the new wiring when there was a knock on the ceiling panel below her. T'Alora turned around and crawled back to the opening she entered through, sticking her head out. Her roommate, T'Melia, stood with her hands folded into the sleeves of her work robes.

"Will you accompany me to the Mess Hall for the midday meal?" her friend inquired.

She mentally calculated the work yet to be done before replying. "Yes. I will meet you at our usual table in 23.3 minutes."

T'Melia nodded. "That is acceptable." She departed.

The last 1.76 years had been a period of great personal growth for T'Alora; she found her work challenging and fulfilling and her colleagues and environment were quite stimulating. She had built a reputation for herself as a resourceful and ingenious engineer, with her unique improvements to the warp engine being published in 11 separate scientific journals and having her hold 3 patents for parts created in conjunction with her work-and all before she had reached her 24th year.

Many in her family made it known how proud they were of her and her achievements but none meant so much to her as the day when her Uncle Scotty comm'd from Starbase 27 to add his congratulations. The memory of that call never failed to make her smile.

Now this was not to say that T'Alora was without a social life. Although she shared a suite with 5 other individuals she was closest to her suite mate T'Melia, whom she became friendly with during their first month of basic training. T'Melia's focus was in the biological sciences with an especial interest in botany. She stood as tall as T'Alora but possessed a much fairer complexion. When viewed from behind and with their hair braided the two women appeared nearly identical, and as they were often in each other's company they had been mistaken for one another with great frequency.

The last 1.76 years had also been witness to another great change in T'Alora's life; she had begun to date again. There had been a total of 5 men—4 from various departments within the space program and 1 who she met at the open-air market in New Shannai'Kahr—who had solicited her attention in that span of time. It was becoming more commonplace for Vulcans to 'date' in the human fashion, however, of all 5 of her relationships none of them lasted longer then 2.14 months. Her suitors were all upstanding men (save for Bartol, from Security, who was so rude to the wait staff at the restaurant that she departed abruptly after berating him for his behavior), yet after a fashion she noticed that the evening outings lacked a certain element that T'Alora deemed vital for a relationship. She could not qualify what this 'something' was and yet when the topic was discussed with her dates they acknowledged the absence as well. At the conclusion of these outings both parties wound up going their separate ways while remaining on good terms.

Still, after her disastrous relationship with David, a start was a start.

When her work was completed T'Alora shimmied out of the overhead compartment, dusted off her robes, washed her hands and proceeded to the Mess. The hall was full but quiet save for the scraping of utensils against plates. After collecting a hearty slice of lasagna and a salad she headed toward T'Melia at their table near the window overlooking the build yard where they ate in companionable silence.

"How come your preparations for the maiden voyage?" T'Melia asked as soon as they both were through.

"I have 57.61 meters of wiring left to replace before our departure, in addition to my other pre-launch assignments. Have you found a suitable proxy to monitor your long-range experiments while we are gone?"

T'Melia displayed the barest hint of a grimace. "I have found a replacement, yes; whether or not Kyfon will be suitable remains to be seen."

She arched an eyebrow at her friend. "You question his intelligence?"

"No, however, I do question his commitment to overseeing my work. His attention is directed more toward his own assignment, as underdeveloped as it is."

"And what is his study?"

"Kyfon is monitoring the radiological decay of New Vulcan's rocks to determine what, if any impact, the radiation may have on our physiology." T'Alora said nothing but let her eyes do the talking. T'Melia smirked. "Indeed. His study is a long-term one but is not very involved, yet he persists in constantly 'overseeing' it."

She was about to remark on the futility of the young man's project when several comms went off simultaneously in the opposite corner of the room. She craned her neck in that direction and saw 8 officers abruptly decamp; no sooner had they departed than another table of 4 also fled, their half-eaten meals quickly disposed of in the recycle chute. T'Alora next turned toward the window and noticed a flurry of activity out in the yard.

"What do you suppose is the matter?" T'Melia asked in concert with her own thoughts.

"I cannot begin to speculate," she replied, though she had several theories of her own in mind, "But I believe it will only be a matter of time before all is revealed."

* * *

><p>Truer words were never spoken—T'Alora had only to return to her post to learn that the <em>Mahar'oth<em>, an exploratory vessel that had been launched 3 days prior to her arrival in New Shannai'Kahr, was no longer in contact with Command.

She had been slated to return to Headquarters in 25 days.

The implications were clear and, deeply shaken, T'Alora abruptly excused herself from her duties and traversed the grounds in a daze. When she became cognizant of her surroundings once again she hastened to her room when she felt her stomach begin to heave. She secured the door firmly behind her and began to pace.

Another ship lost; and while the _Mahar'oth_ had not been officially declared destroyed there was no doubt in her mind that it was well and truly gone. Whether it had been felled by foe or anomaly remained to be seen but another 56 souls had been claimed by the black expanse of space.

Her stomach surged again and her heart raced. Fear. It was, T'Alora realized with a start, an emotion that she would continually struggle with given her past experiences and her choice of profession. Recognizing the control she was giving this fear she immediately recalled all that Telnor had taught her; she then pulled out her asenoi, lit it and settled into the lotus position.

Selfishly, it was fear for her own well-being that was predominant. The Vulcan Space Program, like Starfleet, was not immune to such unexpected losses as the _Mahar'oth_; however the Vulcan program was newer and smaller, and as such this latest blow was felt that much more keenly. She very nearly lost her family in space 3.19 years ago and T'Alora knew she may also one day lose her own life there. But fear of death was no way to live, and after acknowledging such morbid thoughts she meditated for many hours before setting them aside.

She also prayed for the katras of the 56 Vulcans who were lost.

She remained in this attitude for the duration of the day and into the early hours of the morning, grieving for that which had transpired though she knew none of the deceased crew personally; but that did not matter, as the entire community was now bereft. Only after her emotions had been called up, made known, and properly sorted did T'Alora believe herself fit to return to duty.

A great silence descended over the campus in subsequent days and it was one that was not easily broken.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Kahr, <strong>_**2285.75, 0700 hours.** She approached her workstation and saw everyone gathered around the central message hub. "Have we received a new assignment for today?"

"No," Lieutenant Rion replied. "It is new information regarding the _Mahar'oth_. A transmission was received approximately 4.3 hours ago; the communications department is attempting to clear it up now."

T'Alora let her surprise briefly show. "The _Mahar'oth_ survived?"

"That information is not known at this time. There is a 12.68% chance that the communication was relayed to us prior to the ship's disappearance and was subsequently delayed. We must wait until the communications department completes it's work to know for certain."

She hung her head. To hope for the ship's survival would only set her up for future emotional inner turmoil. "Understood."

More information regarding the _Mahar'oth_ became available throughout the day, and if it were not so illogical T'Alora would have called the news quite miraculous. A sudden ion storm had caught the ship off-guard, knocking out much of the communications array, the warp engines, and approximately half of their life support systems. They had reached out to Headquarters and a last ditch message had arrived in the nick of time. Another ship was quickly dispatched to tow the _Mahar'oth _home and were now 2 days away from touchdown with a full crew complement aboard that were relatively unharmed.

* * *

><p><em><strong> Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Kahr, <strong>_**2285.77, 0216 hours.** Assignments had been given and 3 assembly lines erected to better serve the survivors the moment they disembarked. T'Alora stood behind the steaming stew pot with her ladle in one hand and her eyes on the sky, watching as the battered _Mahar'oth_ came into view. The ship touched down rather gracefully despite it's damaged state and once the engines were disengaged the captains and admirals stepped forward to greet and be briefed by the senior staff.

From her position 20 meters away T'Alora watched the starving and unclean junior staff gather on either side of the _Mahar'oth's_ gangway, ignoring their own personal needs and standing at attention as they awaited Captain Balel. He emerged 3.8 minutes later, his first officer standing beyond his left shoulder, and strode down the gangplank as if the circumstances of the ship's return were within normal parameters. The Captain stopped and conferred briefly with the other officials before giving his XO the nod and allowing the rest of the crew to disperse.

The scientists and explorers looked a little worse for wear given their ordeal yet they had survived. They were, she realized, most fortunate to have escaped without any serious injuries save for the odd bump, sprained ankle or broken arm. The crew had, however, had other privations to contend with, chief among them being an inadequate fresh food supply. Vulcans were a naturally lean people to begin with and T'Alora noted that many of them now looked positively gaunt. They were also sleep deprived, as evidenced by the dark circles under their eyes, and in need of sonic showers.

As the first survivors approached her table T'Alora readied the stew while keeping an eye on the ship. One man in particular caught her eye—not only because of his impressive height (1.98 meters by her estimation) and full black beard—but also because he broke rank and approached Captain Evanna, who also stepped away from her discussion with their other superior officers. Their exchange was brief but warm, and as the tall man walked away T'Alora wondered what the connection was between them. Were they relatives? Friends? Close colleagues? She could not be certain.

Another bowl was thrust up at her and T'Alora lost track of the man. She diligently ladled out the stew until 4.97 minutes later when the broad expanse of his chest stepped directly into her line of vision. T'Alora craned her neck up and looked deep into a pair of twinkling blue-green eyes set in stark contrast to his dark olive complexion. The other survivors, their gazes were all blank, distant, speaking volumes to their utter exhaustion, while his were quite expressive and almost jubilant. She was curious to learn more about him but there were others behind him waiting to be fed.

"Thank you," he said as she topped off his bowl. She watched him walk away and then did not think anymore of him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Kahr, <strong>_**2285.84, 1227 hours.** "T'Alora."

She stopped her work and turned to see Captain Evanna approach with the tall man walking alongside her. He looked much recovered from his ordeal as he was well-rested and generously fed; his beard was gone too, and under the strong lights of the engineering deck she saw that he was much younger than she initially thought, perhaps around 30 standard years of age. The pair paused before her and she held up her hand in greeting.

"T'Alora, this is Lieutenant Commander Veren."

She nodded. "It is gratifying to…"

"He will be serving with us as Commander Ulshan's second. Please assist him in getting acclimated to the deck."

T'Alora's mouth snapped shut. Commander Ulshan's second? She had—albeit unofficially—taken on that role for the last 6.7 months, ever since Lieutenant Commander Pyril unexpectedly left. And now, with 8.1 weeks left until the launch the Captain wanted her to train the man who was to replace her?

The very idea galled her.

She had enough presence of mind to acknowledge the Captain's orders but otherwise did not speak. Captain Evanna soon departed leaving them very much alone in the space.

"Your assistance is much appreciated," Veren declared.

T'Alora glared at the usurper. This was going to be a very long afternoon.


	38. Chapter 38

**Launch**

_**Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Kahr, **_**2285.121, 1933 hours.** Commander Ulshan had had a cardiac event 6 days earlier, leaving Lieutenant Commander Veren in charge as interim Chief Engineer. Almost simultaneous to the Commander's medical problems several serious issues arose on the engineering deck, sending the team scrambling to rectify all the pre-launch glitches. With 2.13 days left until the launch tonight was the scheduled final walk-through and Captain Evanna's eyes roamed the deck taking in every detail.

"The plasma regulator output readings that were malfunctioning earlier…"

"…have been resolved. Subsequent tests have shown our output is within normal operating parameters," Veren evenly replied.

The Captain nodded and looked around some more. T'Alora clasped her hands tighter behind her back and dug her nails deep into her arms. She did not want anything more to go wrong. "And the deuterium cartridges …"

"…have been delivered and tested and are now secure below deck where they belong."

The Captain approached one more console, conferred quietly with the Lieutenant Commander, then proceeded toward the exit. Their supervisor waited until she was out of earshot to address them. "You have all performed admirably this evening. You are now dismissed."

The pressure in her chest instantly dissipated and she eased up on the harsh grip on her hands. T'Alora watched everyone file out, presumably for a night of rest and relaxation, and was the last to head to the turbolift when she saw that the Lieutenant Commander was at work on one of the consoles. She begrudgingly admitted that he had proven himself quite capable; he was a strong leader and now knew the engineering deck almost as well as herself. While she was still disappointed for having been overlooked for the position she no longer held the Lieutenant Commander wholly accountable.

"Will you not also depart?" she inquired.

He looked up from the task at hand. "There is still work to be done. I will return to my quarters when I am sufficiently satisfied that it is completed."

T'Alora was torn. Her parents and her sa-mekh-al had arrived in town this afternoon to visit with her before the launch. Dinner reservations had been made that she did not want to miss, yet she could not bring herself to walk away when her superior officer remained. She briefly considered inviting him to join them out of politeness but was not keen to follow through on the idea. The Lieutenant Commander seemed to sense her dilemma, saying, "I would not have dismissed you if your assistance were required. You are free to spend your evening however you choose."

"Very well." Consulting her internal chronometer T'Alora determined she had just enough time to change her outfit before meeting her family.

* * *

><p><strong>0054 hours. <strong>They had closed down the restaurant after partaking of a delicious meal and spending hours sitting and enjoying stimulating conversation. T'Alora had thought that they would part company there in the city yet her parents and sa-mekh-al insisted on accompanying her back to Headquarters. The hover cab now sat idling outside the main gates while her mother had her arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Mama…"

"I'm not letting go 'til I'm good and ready," she replied.

T'Alora allowed herself a very small smile. "That is very well; however, I was about to suggest that you loosen your grip so that I may receive the necessary amount of oxygen to maintain vital life functions."

Her mother's sharp, barking laugh rang out across the silent grounds and she slackened her grip. "Better?"

"Better."

"Now you stay safe up there—there are always risks but don't you take any unnecessary ones. And call home as often as you can to let us know how you're doing, ok?"

"I will, Mama."

She kissed her gently on the cheek. "I love you."

"And I you."

Mama gradually relinquished her hold and T'Alora was surprised when she was soon swept up into Sa-mekh-al's embrace. She returned the hug with equal vigor. "I will miss you very much," he whispered in her ear.

"I will miss you as well." It was true—ever since her installation at the VSA they had enjoyed a much closer relationship than they had previously, and she would miss his calm presence and wise counsel greatly while she was abroad.

Just then her sa-mekh stepped up, tapping his sa-mekh on the shoulder. "I apologize, however, I must interject."

"Of course." Sa-mekh-al stepped away and turned his back; still, she thought she caught him wiping the corner of his eye with his sleeve.

"T'Alora."

"Sa-mekh."

He said nothing, yet he broadcast so strongly across the bond that she understood his sentiments as well as if he had spoken them aloud. _Pride, affection, joy, awe, love…_and intermixed among so much emotion was the _fear_ that she would not return. His grief at the prospect of facing this scenario was almost suffocating, and while there was a 9.17% chance that such a situation would come to pass she could not easily alleviate his concerns. Meaningless platitudes did not suit either of them and so she let her actions do the talking, giving him a kiss on the cheek before leaning in until their foreheads touched.

"_I have not amply expressed how fortunate I am in having you for a sa-mekh._"

"_You will never have to communicate such sentiments to me,_" he replied. A brief flash of memory was transmitted—it was from their living room on the _Enterprise_, 23.2 years ago; Sa-mekh was holding her and rocking her to sleep. "_And it is I who is most fortunate in having you for a ko-fu_." With great reluctance he stepped away. "Work hard in all your duties."

"I will," she solemnly replied. Mama reached out for one more embrace before following Sa-mekh and Sa-mekh-al back into the hover cab. As they parted company T'Alora found her eyes filling with tears.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Kahr, <strong>_**2285.122, 2130 hours.** After dinner in the Mess T'Alora returned to her quarters and gathered her pre-packed duffle bags. She was not slated to move her belongings onto the ship until the morning, however, there was no regulation that prohibited her from moving on-board prior to that time so she decided to take advantage of the loophole.

The bunks aboard the _T'Kara Mol_ were Spartan when compared to the berths she and her family formerly occupied on the _Enterprise_. Each room was 2.4 meters long by 4.5 meters wide with a single round viewport on the wall opposite the door that also held a personal comm station and desk directly below. A small private bath was installed to the right of the front door and three steps in and on the left was the built-in bed situated atop a meter tall platform with visible shelving and storage underneath. T'Alora surveyed the space, quickly deposited her belongings on the mattress, and left.

She knew that tonight presented her with a unique opportunity, one that she would not receive again; the chance to fully explore any and every crevice of the ship far from prying eyes. As T'Alora exited her bunk, looking first to her left and then to her right down the empty hallway, she felt a trill of delight run up her spine. She quickly entered the turbolift and keyed in her ultimate destination-the Bridge.

The room was dark when the doors opened but the lights queued up as soon as she set foot inside. While the Bridge was of equal size to that of the _Enterprise_ the _T'Kara Mol_ was of a vastly different configuration. The Captain's chair was secured to the floor and sat on the long side of a 2 meter long table located 4 meters opposite the view screen; there were also 4 more seats, 2 on each end, also secured to the floor and allowing for the heads of departments to sit and confer with the captain. To the left of the planning table was the Tactical console while to the right was the Operations console, each with three seats ready for the officers manning those stations. Every last bit of hardware was polished to a high shine.

After several seconds of study T'Alora strode up to the Captain's chair. Although she knew herself to be quite alone she still cautiously looked around the room before settling herself in the seat. Back straight and hands gripping the armrest she stared at the blank view screen and envisioned what it would be like to run a ship such as this; after all, Uncle Jim had been promoted to captain when he was only 1.86 years older than she was now.

So engrossed was she in her imaginings that T'Alora did not notice that she was no longer alone.

"I trust that the cushioning on the seat is supple, yet firm, as per my request." T'Alora jumped at the Captain's voice and immediately stood at attention. "At ease, Lieutenant." She shifted her posture ever so minutely at the order but still avoided the older woman's gaze. Captain Evanna stepped forward toward the view screen then turned to examine the expanse of the Bridge. "I have awaited this particular moment for 7.89 years," she remarked, "And it is better than I could have envisaged."

This declaration pleased her; it meant that she, as well as the rest of the team that had assembled the _T'Kara Mol _had done their jobs well. She also took the hint. "I will not trespass on your domain any longer."

"Do not leave on my account. It is my understanding that the _T'Kara Mol_ is as much yours as she is mine."

T'Alora arched an eyebrow at her. "You are referring to my work in engineering?"

"I am referring to your contributions to the field of engineering at large."

Unbidden, she felt the blush rise to her cheeks at the compliment. "I am gratified by such high praise."

The Captain sidled over and stood on the opposite side of the chair, her hand grazing over the panel on the armrest. "I also understand that you have done much to ease Lieutenant Commander Veren's transition from the _Mahar'oth_ to our ship."

She made a little bow. "I have done no more than any other member of our team has done."

"And yet he has sought out your expertise more than any other; this pleases me also."

T'Alora turned away and moved toward the tactical console. "May I inquire as to what your connection is with the Lieutenant Commander? You seem to take an eager interest in his affairs."

"Certainly," she replied. "I was the one to recruit him when I spoke with Commander Ulshan. The Commander was a professor at the VSA at the time and Veren was his protégé. I believe the humans would say that I caught 'two birds with one stone' with regards to that recruiting trip."

Before she could stop herself T'Alora asked, "Are there any members on board this vessel that you did not personally enlist?" Shocked by her own behavior, she chanced a glance over at the Captain and caught sight of the twinkle in her eyes.

"Of the 84 crewmembers set to board the _T'Kara Mol_ there are only 17 that I did not inspect personally—so in answer to your original question no, I did not recruit them all." She sat down and spread her hands over the table, calling up the interactive screen therein; the Captain then began reviewing all the major systems. "Tomorrow will be a momentous day."

"Yes it will." There was more she wanted to ask the Captain but she could see that the woman's attention had already moved on to more pressing matters, such as the intricate details surrounding tomorrow's launch. T'Alora left without another word.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Kahr, <strong>_**2285.123, 1059 hours. **She sat strapped in at her console while the countdown from Command was broadcast shipwide.

22 seconds...

21 seconds...

20 seconds...

T'Alora turned to look at two of her colleagues, Lieutenants Rion and Portak, who were sitting as she was poised and ready to go.

15 seconds...

14 seconds...

13 seconds...

Her entire body trembled with excitement. This was it—the point that she had been working toward for the last 1.96 years.

4 seconds…

3 seconds…

2 seconds…

1 second…

There was a tremendous amount of force as the ship was propelled upward and T'Alora grinned to herself throughout the entire bumpy ride. Once the ship broke through the atmosphere, however, she maintained a neutral expression and set about dutifully checking her readings. She was situated on a long-term space-faring vessel once more.


	39. Chapter 39

**Attention**

_**Mess Hall/Recreation Room, T'Kara Mol, **_**2285.129, 1943 hours.** T'Alora and T'Melia sat at the four top table near the viewport engaged in a game of kal-toh. The ship was currently traveling at warp factor 4 to the far reaches of the Beta quadrant to do a planetary survey of the recently discovered Tricuetral system. All 3 planets in the system appeared capable of sustaining life and it was their job to extensively test whether this theory was sound and if possible future colonies could be established.

"Given the nature of the assignment I estimate that we will be in orbit around Tricuetra I, II and III for the next 6.4 months," T'Melia remarked. T'Alora gave a slight nod of acknowledgement without breaking eye contact with the sphere. "Do you know when we are scheduled to arrive?" T'Alora glanced up briefly at her friend; she knew what T'Melia was up to, attempting to distract her with technical talk in the hope of gaining the upper hand…

…and yet she still rose up to the bait despite herself, mentally calculating their current trajectory with the known distance to Tricuetra I. "We will be in orbit around the first planet in 12.81 days time, assuming we maintain our current warp and course." Very gently she plucked the t'an* from the sphere; the re-formed shape was not what she had anticipated.

T'Melia minutely sucked in her cheeks—a sign T'Alora recognized as her suppressing a grin. "That is well; it is ample time for me to gather my equipment together for exploration of the surface."

As her friend studied the board in triumph T'Alora took a moment to observe the rest of the room. The space did double duty as the ship's Mess Hall and Recreation Room and tonight 71.42% of the crew were present, many making introductions while others, like herself and T'Melia, were engaged in various off-duty pursuits. It was gratifying to see so many Vulcan explorers in one place and the sight of this crew—her new ship family—made her continue to speculate on what the future had in store for them all.

T'Melia selected a t'an but instead of removing it re-settled it elsewhere on the sphere, her win now inevitable. Returning to the task at hand, T'Alora became so engrossed as to momentarily forget about her surroundings until her friend spoke up. "I believe we are about to be joined by 2 of our colleagues."

She looked up and spotted Lieutenant Commander Veren's tall frame parting the crowd; beside him was another man of smaller stature and stockier frame, and it was obvious that they were approaching their table.

"I do not understand. Why are they choosing to join us when there are other unoccupied tables available for their use?"

Her friend pursed her lips. "T'Alora, we will be living and working together for the next 2.98 years; it is only logical to cultivate acquaintances amongst our colleagues to ensure that that time passes most efficiently, both professionally and personally."

No sooner had T'Melia finished this little speech then Veren and his colleague reached their table. "May we join you?" The girls both nodded and the two men pulled out their own seats and sat down. Veren turned to T'Melia. "I do not believe that we are acquainted; I am Lieutenant Commander Veren. I work in Engineering with Lieutenant T'Alora." He nodded in her direction. "And this is Lieutenant Commander Marvox from Communications."

"I am Lieutenant T'Melia from biological sciences. It is gratifying to make your acquaintance." The men nodded in turn. "Would you care to join us in a game of kal-toh?"

Lieutenant Commander Marvox spoke up, his voice low and deep. "We would not wish to intrude…"

"Nonsense," her friend replied, "Your intrusion will instead give T'Alora a brief respite from our current game as well as a chance to redeem herself." T'Melia glanced her way, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Please."

Lieutenant Commander Veren glanced her way but said nothing while Lieutenant Commander Marvox spoke for them both. "If you insist."

T'Alora reached over and re-set the game so that all 4 could participate. Her supervisor lead off and as they awaited their turn Lieutenant Commander Marvox struck up a conversation. "I understand that your work in Engineering is of great importance."

She fought back against the blush rising unbidden to her cheeks. "I do not know that my work is of great importance; I have done my share to help make this ship space-worthy, same as my colleagues."

T'Alora looked over and found him staring at her most intensely as he replied, "I understand. My work on the Bridge is of vital importance in day-to-day functions yet I am not one to call attention to it either."

She arched an eyebrow. "You are a member of the Bridge crew?"

"I am."

This time she could not help herself. "Do you know if Captain Evanna finds the cushioning on her chair to her liking?"

The Lieutenant Commander furrowed his brow, not understanding her little jest. "I am not aware whether she likes or dislikes her seat."

As her turn approached she missed the way Lieutenant Commander Veren canted his head at her tease. Once the obligatory questions about residence and upbringing were asked and answered the evening passed mostly in silence.

* * *

><p>Their social group soon expanded to include Lieutenants Guler and Jenaya, colleagues from Engineering and Biological Sciences, respectively. Although the six of them would not always pass all their free time together, when they did their conversations and company were quite stimulating.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess HallRecreation Room, T'Kara Mol, **_**2285.152, 1901 hours.** It did not escape T'Alora's notice that Lieutenant Commander Veren now joined their society less and less; initially she suspected an alteration in his work schedule kept him away but now she began to think it was because he no longer valued their company. In contrast to this Lieutenant Commander Marvox always appeared to be available and she often found him waiting for their approach wherever they may be gathering.

If the others noticed this shift in their social dynamic they did not remark upon it.

Today, however, saw quite the deviation from the norm. Lieutenant Commander Marvox was waiting for T'Alora outside of Engineering.

She exited the Bay deep in discussion with Lieutenants Rion, Portak and Amaan. "I have been monitoring the rotor to the conduit cooling system," Lieutenant Amaan stated. "It has shown a decrease in efficiency by 2.3% over the last 5 weeks."

She turned to her colleague and walked past the Lieutenant Commander without seeing him. "Has the cooling system been compromised by this unknown defect?"

Lieutenant Portak shook his head. "Negative. There has been no increase in temperature detected within the system."

"Then as the modifications to the ground team's equipment take precedence at this time. I suggest you continue to monitor the situation and inform me when the issue begins to negatively impact the cooling system."

Lieutenant Rion arched an eyebrow at her. All four of them being of equal rank he asked, "And why should the task fall to you when any of us are capable of finding and correcting the defect?"

"There is only one simple reason," she replied as she held up one hand for inspection. "My narrow hand will fit in the compartment where the rotor is housed and yours will not."

The men tilted their heads in concession to her logic and agreed to alert her before the problem became more pronounced. Meanwhile the Lieutenant Commander, who had been trailing them for over half a deck, finally announced his presence. "Lieutenant T'Alora, may I escort you to the Mess?"

She turned around and watched him stop short, hands reflexively reaching behind his back while his facial expression remained unreadable. She was already headed to the Mess and was accompanied by her colleagues; there was no need for him to make his offer.

However, he was currently in their company and headed in the same direction as they were—to refuse him would be illogical.

"You may." She nodded to the others and hung back to walk with him.

An uncomfortable silence descended as they headed toward the turbolift and T'Alora used that time to puzzle out what her friend wanted. The Lieutenant Commander had never sought out her company specifically, nor could she ever recall him presenting himself down in Engineering, making her suspect that he was in need of a favor and wished to speak with her privately.

The doors opened and he allowed her to enter first; when they shut again he inquired after her day.

"There is nothing new to report," she replied. "The planetary survey has kept us busy with modifications and repairs to the ground equipment."

"Understood."

The uncomfortable silence threatened to descend again and so she inquired after his day. "As there are no new life forms to attempt to communicate with and Headquarters has no new orders for us my work has consisted of fielding calls between various departments on-board and the survey team on the surface."

"Has the Captain been to the surface?"

"She has been down and she has plans to return again tomorrow morning." The Mess Hall doors opened and T'Alora looked around for her other friends. T'Melia, Jenaya and Guler were nowhere in sight; only Lieutenant Commander Veren was present, seated at a small table in the back corner reading from a PADD. They would gather their meals, join him and hopefully check the awkwardness suddenly existing between her and Marvox.

But that was not to be as he steered her away to a table on the opposite side of the room once she collected her food. Again as they ate T'Alora wondered why he was singling her out. It was not that she disliked Marvox but shortly after their acquaintance she discovered that they had very few interests in common; he was also quite talkative (unsurprising given his choice of profession) and there had been more than one evening spent in his general company where she wished for his silence. It was with this thought in mind that she attempted to excuse herself at the end of their meal only to be invited to partake of a game of 3D chess.

T'Alora arched an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you did not care for the game as you so rarely join our matches."

Marvox rose to clear their trays. "It is not that I do not care for 3D chess, however, I am not anywhere near as competitive as you, T'Melia and Guler are."

"Understood."

He stood with both trays in his hands. "Does this mean that you will join me?"

She briefly considered his offer and accepted only to satisfy her curiosity on how well he did or did not play. As he walked toward the recycling chute T'Alora collected the board and set up their game. Despite Marvox's initial weak opening he proved to be quite adept.

He also remained uncharacteristically quiet.

Periodically she looked away from the board and around the room. Her colleagues from Engineering had already departed and T'Melia and Jenaya were still nowhere to be seen. Lieutenant Commander Veren remained in his same position at the corner table.

"I wonder which of her experiments has kept T'Melia from joining us this evening?"

Marvox stared hard at the board, considering his options. Though he still had many pieces left his choices were few. "T'Melia is not currently aboard the ship."

This news surprised her. "She is not?"

He shook his head no. "She and the rest of the ground crew have decided to remain on the planet's surface this evening."

"Why?"

T'Alora was so quick with her questions that he broke concentration and looked at her. "They are attempting to catalogue what, if any, nocturnal creatures are present on Tricuetra I so as to conduct a thorough survey of them in the coming weeks of our mission."

_Oh_, she thought, feeling suddenly rather foolish. "Understood." Seven moves later saw her end the game and this time she was determined to depart.

"Would you care to go another round?" he asked.

"I cannot," she replied, "I have some personal communications to attend to in my quarters." She began to pack up the board.

"May I escort you to your room then?"

T'Alora paused in her efforts and looked at him. He was behaving very strangely and she could not discern why. "I thank you for your offer but I am not in need of an escort at this time."

"Understood." Marvox redoubled his efforts and earnestly packed up the board. "You need not remain; I will complete this task for you." She nodded and rose from her seat, headed for the door. Once there she glanced back into the room, feeling confused and unsettled as her eyes settled on Marvox's hunched shoulders.

She did not see Lieutenant Commander Veren's head turn away from her and focus back on his PADD.

* * *

><p>The following day T'Alora discovered that Guler's schedule had been altered and that T'Melia and Jenaya were very busy with their work on the surface; and although she resolved to avoid Marvox as much as she could he still found ways to insert himself into her life during mealtimes and free hours. She suspected his behavior was different toward her because he was lonely with their other companions gone, and while she endured it with as much grace as she could muster she only remained in his company as briefly as she could without appearing impolite.<p>

Twice she tried to catch Lieutenant Commander Veren's eye in the vain hope that he would 'rescue' her by virtue of his presence in their company but she was unsuccessful. T'Alora privately mourned the loss of freedom Marvox's intense scrutiny brought to bear but she knew it would not last long—and she was correct. Within 8 days her friends were able to adopt a more normal schedule, rejoining their society, and Marvox also returned to his former attitude.

Mostly.

* * *

><p>* t'an = Vulkahnsu, rod (Google kal-toh to learn more about the game if you're unfamiliar with it; I'm afraid I don't have the opportunity to get into it here)<p> 


	40. Chapter 40

**Comm. Call I**

_**Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,**_** 2285.191, 0000 hours.** As was usual when the three of them held their monthly long-distance calls, Casey was tardy in her attendance. While they waited, she and Poleia exchanged information on what was new in each other's personal lives; the health and well-being of their respective families, the status of their careers, etc.

"How is Ferlan?"

"He is well," Poleia reported. "Ferlan, Sa-mekh, and Pahan are drawing up plans to further expand the agricultural dome. Should the work go ahead the addition will be erected within the next 18.1 months."

"That is very good news for you and your clan."

"Yes it is."

"And your students are doing well, I understand?"

Poleia's eyes crinkled ever so slightly around the edges in pleasure. She taught a class of 24 students all roughly 9 standard years of age and all of whom—according to her friend—were highly intelligent.

"My pupils are doing quite well; in point of fact, you have reminded me of a request I wish to make of you."

"Of course."

"My students and I have recently begun to discuss space exploration and I informed them that I know of someone working within the Vulcan Space Program. They queried me at length about your work and your duties and I was unable to satisfy their curiosity. If you had time available would you perhaps speak to them via comm during one or two class periods?"

The opportunity to enrich their lives and influence such young minds appealed to her greatly. "I will gladly oblige you and forward my work schedule so that you may coordinate a time that works best for you and your students."

Poleia nodded. "I am most gratified."

Just then Casey, in all her effusiveness, joined the communication. "Hey girls!" She looked from one to the other then frowned as she finally landed on Poleia's image. "No."

Poleia's eyebrow slowly rose. "I do not understand."

"I'm not late, so don't say that I am."

"I was not going to remark upon your tardiness, but in point of fact you are late in joining our conversation."

"No I'm not!" Casey whined. Holding her wrist up to the screen both girls saw the digital chronometer reading 7:00:06 PM. "6 seconds, _6 seconds_, and that's because I had to dial in! I am _not_ late."

"Then perhaps your chronometer is incorrect," T'Alora countered before her friend could have the opportunity, "Because Poleia and I have been conversing for the last 5.6 minutes while awaiting your arrival."

"Dammit!" Casey flung herself down dramatically on the desk. "Every time!"

"Yes, you are habitually late, but your effort to be punctual is commendable."

Casey granted Poleia a wry smile at the backhanded compliment before picking up the conversation again. "Ok, moving on, how're things with you girls?" They quickly brought her up to speed and inquired after her preparations for the move to San Francisco, to be followed soon after by her bonding ceremony to Stalvek. "It's great! I'm almost done packing, just a few odds and ends and stuff, then I need to ship out the bigger furniture. Stalvek found a great little apartment near the Embassy that's on the hoverbus line so I can get to work easily and it's just perfect. I'll be heading out there to meet him in 2 weeks."

"And all is prepared for your Van-Kal t'Telan*?" Poleia inquired. She and Ferlan would be traveling to Terra in one month's time to bear witness to the event per Casey's request.

"Yep, everything's ready! We've got the Healer and the venue—all we need are you guys to get the ball rolling!"

"That is most auspicious news."

"Indeed," T'Alora added, "And I am only sorry that I will be unable to bear witness to your union firsthand."

Casey frowned slightly. "I know, and I'm sorry. I should've planned it better but I just wasn't ready before...but trust me, you'll be there in spirit!" Her friend soon became interested in another idea as she cocked her head to the side and asked, "What about you, T? Is there anyone new in your life? Anyone you might want to…" she waggled her brows suggestively as she let the thought trail off.

T'Alora drew her brows together in consternation. "Anyone I might want to what, Casey?"

"Anyone you want to date, obviously. Are there any special guys on the ship for you? What about that one you mentioned last time—Mardell, Marvel…"

"Marvox?"

Casey eagerly clapped her hands. "Yes, that's the one! What about Marvox? It's about time T finds a nice guy for herself, don't you think, Poleia?"

The corners of her mouth turn down. "I am not interested in Marvox as a potential partner."

Her friend sighed. "That's too bad, because he seems to like you; at least based on what you've told us before."

"Marvox is a friend and as such we spend time in one another's company with our other colleagues when we are not tending to our duties. There is no deeper connection than that."

Poleia appeared content with her response but Casey was not. "None? Are you sure?"

T'Alora struck her chin up and looked down her nose at her friend. "I am certain."

"Fine." Her friend let out a soft sigh. "Is there anybody else?"

"Casey, I believe it would be in your best interest to cease this line of questioning. If T'Alora ever has news to impart about a potential bond mate for herself she will disclose it when she is ready."

Despite Poleia's good intentions her words struck the wrong cord. "_If T'Alora ever has news to impart…_" suggesting that she would—as she secretly feared—live her life in solitude; and while she was not actively seeking a life partner at this time she did not relish the thought of leading such an isolated existence either.

"Poleia, Casey, you must excuse me. The hour grows late and I have an early shift tomorrow."

"Of course," Poleia replied, ready to disconnect without requiring any further explanation.

"Sure, T, we'll talk to you later." Casey screwed up her lip while examining her closely. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She pointedly ignored the question as she was unable to lie. "Good night."

"Good night."

T'Alora turned off the comm. and sat before the dark screen for a further 3 minutes in an attempt to settle herself. When she felt she was able she rose and exchanged her uniform for her work out gear and retreated to the sanctuary of the gymnasium.

* * *

><p>* Van-Kal t'Telan = Vulkhansu, ceremony of bonding<p> 


	41. Chapter 41

**The First Cut is the Deepest**

_** Engineering Bay, T'Kara Mol,**_** 2285.208, 1246 hours.** She was on her way to partake of the midday meal when she heard her name called out as Lieutenant Rion approached from behind. "Lieutenant T'Alora, you asked to be informed when the malfunctioning rotor began to negatively impact the conduit cooling system and it is currently doing so. I have noticed that the temperature of the cooling system has increased by 2 degrees Celsius over the last 36.8 hours. The rotor will need to be examined."

"Thank you." She felt for the sonic screwdriver on her belt as she spoke. "I will go and investigate the matter right now." He made a little bow before leaving her and she turned in the direction of the room housing the malfunctioning equipment. The space was cramped, situated as it was behind two large, opaque water tanks. Aside from the tanks this corner of Engineering contained crates of parts and supplies and was fairly isolated from the rest of the floor.

She was intrigued by this latest puzzle. The rotor had been delivered to the VSA straight from the manufacturer and had passed both organizations' rigorous stress tests; also, the _T'Kara Mol_ had only been in space for the last 87.4 days. They had not anticipated that this equipment would ever experience such performance issues, especially not at this juncture.

It was all quite fascinating.

Pressing the button on the wall panel T'Alora disengaged the rotor and began removing the grating covering the unit. As it came free she glanced down the 13.44 centimeter tube at the stopped rotor blade to try and visually diagnose the source of the problem but was unable to locate it; however, when she removed the blade in it's entirety she discovered a piece of organic material lodged inside. The gray-green mineral was not any compound she could readily identify and she decided to turn it over to the science labs for further testing. Once it was determined what the material was she could trace it back to it's source and discover whether other systems were affected and/or if this would be a recurring issue that would need to be monitored for the duration of their mission.

She slipped the oblong mineral into the pocket of her uniform trousers then set about re-installing the rotor. The blade was put back into place and she held it fast with her right hand while reaching with her left for the sonic screwdriver.

What happened next was a moment of pure carelessness. There was no other explanation for it.

T'Alora inadvertently hit the power button with her hip, and while not fully re-attached the rotor blade began spinning. She scrambled to dislodge her hand when the distal portion of her fifth finger was sliced clean off.

The pain was excruciating but more than that the shock of the cut was what struck her most in the immediate aftermath of the accident. T'Alora pulled her hand out of the tube and examined it for approximately 16.98 seconds, watching in growing horror as the bright red blood spouted out of the stump like a geyser. The blood stained the wall and slid down her wrist, seeping into the cuff of her uniform shirt and making the light gray fabric look almost black as it soaked into the material.

Her senses returned to her in a rush along with the pain and T'Alora knew she needed the immediate aid of a healer. Pulling herself out from behind the water tanks the cool air of the room went straight through her and she shivered. She was able to take 2 steps forward before stumbling, clutching the corner of a packing crate to help keep herself upright. The blood loss was impairing both her cognitive and motor abilities else she would have retrieved her comm badge and paged Medical; instead she struggled to remain conscious and reach the door.

T'Alora was 3 steps from the entryway when she lost consciousness and collapsed.

* * *

><p>6.3 minutes after this unfortunate series of events Lieutenant Commander Veren returned from his midday meal unaware that anything was amiss in Engineering. Consulting his PADD he moved with sure steps toward the back rooms of the Bay in order to review the morning's repair work. As he strode down the hall the unusually sharp tang of iron wafted up his nose. Veren stopped and took another calculated sniff.<p>

_Most curious…_ Abandoning his previous task he began to investigate the source of the scent; peering around the corner and into the storage room he perceived Lieutenant T'Alora on the ground, her right hand lying in a growing pool of red liquid. His PADD clattered to the ground as he raced to her side and crouched down beside her, feeling for a pulse that was weak but still present. As he examined her more closely Veren perceived that T'Alora's small finger had been severed and that the red liquid pouring forth from her hand was her own iron based blood.

_Fascinating_. Her red blood meant that she was not full Vulcan. _This would explain_…but Veren did not allow himself time to finish even that thought. He was unaware exactly how long T'Alora had been unconscious and he knew that she required a healer's immediate services.

Rolling her gently onto her back he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to Medical.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Medical Suite, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2285.208, 2322 hours.** T'Alora was brought out of her trance by a resounding slap across the cheek. As she blinked against the bright overhead lights Healer Ketrick stepped into view.

"My hand…"

"You were brought unconscious to the Medical Suite 10.6 hours ago and underwent emergency surgery, after which you were assisted into a healing trance. The reattachment of your severed digit was successful and you are expected to regain full function within 4.2 days should you adhere to our current course of treatment."

T'Alora brought her right hand up and saw that her small finger was heavily bandaged. The sensation was significantly deadened at the moment but she was able to wiggle the digit and discern for herself that it was indeed attached. "Who found me?"

The Healer quirked his head and consulted his PADD. "Your supervisor, Lieutenant Commander Veren, was the one to discover you; he also retrieved the severed finger."

T'Alora had little time to ponder the ramifications of her accident as Healer Ketrick set his PADD aside and produced a hypospray. "This syringe contains an analgesic that should allow you to rest and recuperate for another 7.7 hours while we continue to monitor your vital signs."

"But I do not req—…" her protest died on her lips as the hypospray was depressed into her neck and 6.5 seconds later she slipped back to sleep.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2285.209, 1031 hours.** She was released to her quarters when she awoke and had been placed on medical leave for the next 3 days to allow her hand to fully heal. After calling her family and informing them of the accident as well as the state of her recovery T'Alora decided to sit atop her bed and review the numerous technical journals that had been piling up in her in-box since the start of their mission. No sooner had she started reading then the door chime sounded.

"Enter." She did not move from her perch; she saw no reason to as she suspected T'Melia of coming to check on her recovery. However, when the door opened it was not the sound of her friend's soft-booted footfalls that she heard but the hesitant steps of a large man crossing her threshold. Mindful of her hand T'Alora carefully sat up and swung her legs over to see Lieutenant Commander Veren filling her doorway.

"Greetings."

"Greetings," she replied.

Neither spoke nor made any move. His appraising glance did not escape her notice as he took in her casual attire and appearance; the Lieutenant Commander also openly stared at her injured hand.

"Please," she gestured into the room, "Sit."

He stepped forward, mindful of not hitting his head on the bulkhead before taking a seat and placing his hands on his knees. "I have come to inquire as to whether or not you are fully recovered."

She resisted the urge to hold up her hand as evidence to the contrary; also, he could have discovered this for himself by simply looking at her medical leave of absence form. "The severed finger has been reattached and I am under Healer Ketrick's care for a further 54.7 hours to ensure that there are no complications such as infection or loss of function."

The Lieutenant Commander nodded. "Understood. I will adjust the duty rosters accordingly." He did not add anything further nor did he make a move to leave.

"Is there anything else I may assist you with, Lieutenant Commander?"

His focus returned to her as he said, "Veren. You may call me Veren."

"Very well. You may call me T'Alora. May I be of service in any other way?"

His expression wavered but little yet she could tell he was vacillating over whether or not to ask her the question on the tip of his tongue. "No, I am not in need of your assistance at this time; however, I have…that is to say, I am curious about…I noticed…"

It was interesting, watching him struggle with his thoughts, and yet she decided to end his uncomfortable little speech. "You have come to inquire as to why I have iron based blood."

"Yes." He blinked owlishly at her.

She held her head up a little higher and declared, "I possess iron based blood because I am ¾ human."

Both black eyebrows jumped high up into his forehead as Veren processed her news. "¾ human? I do not understand; interspecies births within Vulcan society are a phenomenon that is only 27.3 standard years old and yet I would estimate that you are no more than 22.8 standard years…"

T'Alora interrupted him for the second time in 49 seconds. "I am 24.6 standard years of age, and while it is true that the phenomena of interspecies births has increased exponentially in the time since the Destruction it was not without precedent prior to our planet's demise."

He squinted at her and cocked his head to the side and she could see he was attempting to put all the pieces of information carefully into place. "Why did you not disclose this information sooner? Did you think that the crew would be less accepting of you because of your human heritage?"

"No, I…"

"Because one need only to meet you and hear tell of your accomplishments to think very highly of you."

She stiffened. It surprised her to know that he thought so well of her. Shaking her head she replied, "It is precisely for that reason that I have withheld information regarding my heritage and my clan for so long as I have."

"I do not follow your line of thinking."

T'Alora took a deep calming breath. "When I began my career in the Vulcan Space Program I wanted to be recognized for my own merits rather than for my connection to my clan; as this was no easy task the omission of certain personal information was necessary."

Veren was silent for several seconds and he rubbed his palms back and forth against his knees. "If you had not injured yourself—and I had not found you—would you have made this information known of your own volition?"

That very perceptive question took her slightly aback. "I…I do not know."

He cocked his head and looked at her in such a way that was reminiscent of her sa-mekh until he abruptly stood and prepared to depart. "Very well. I will leave you now so that you may properly recuperate."

He was on the verge of exiting and T'Alora was struck by his restraint. Had she been in the Lieutenant Commander's place she would have inquired further into his origins and yet he had not asked for more information about hers beyond the simple clarification of her iron based blood. Her decision to speak next was not entirely logical.

"I am S'chn T'gai T'Alora, ko-fu of Spokh of Vulcan and Nyota Uhura of Terra."

Had she not been watching him so closely she might have missed the marginal widening of his eyes. Her clan and her parents were very well known—similar, she supposed, to the Cochrane family on Terra—and there was no mistaking that Veren now understood why she had been so reticent. He made a slight bow then removed himself from her quarters.

* * *

><p>T'Alora had not expected the Lieutenant Commander to keep her secret—there was no rationale for it—however, certain facts came into evidence in the ensuing days as to suggest that he had. T'Melia, in her frequent visits, made no allusion to her clan and neither did Marvox. When she next saw Guler and Portak in the Mess they informed her that they had been wholly unaware of her accident for 1.2 hours after she had been brought to Medical, stating that Lieutenant Commander Veren himself had cleaned the room so that none of their colleagues were wise to what had transpired.<p>

She was as she had been before: Lieutenant T'Alora, engineer aboard the _T'Kara Mol_. Nothing more, nothing less.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hi all! Hope you enjoyed this latest installment. Just wanted to take a second and promote NotesfromaClassroom's newest work. It's not a Star Trek story but it's just as great as her other ST work and definitely worth a look. It's based on the new TV series "Elementary" with Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson and is titled "Sherlock Goes to Dixie". Be sure and look it up if you're interested in a new, great read!


	42. Chapter 42

**A Hint of Insight**

_**Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol, **_**2285.214, 1843 hours.**"You are most fortunate," Marvox remarked on the evening that the last of her bandages was removed, "That you did not lose the whole of your hand nor suffer diminished sensation in the digit that was severed."

"Yes," she quietly replied, looking down and flexing her fingers, "I am." T'Alora looked up and spotted Veren on the opposite side of the room and gave him a slight nod of thanks. He returned the gesture before depositing his empty meal tray and exiting the room.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2285.221, 1916 hours.** He was alone in the Mess and for once, thankfully, so was she. She sidled up to the table and waited for Veren to direct his attention her way so that she may request a seat alongside him.

Only he did no such thing.

Her supervisor continued to sit there, engrossed in his reading, for a further 41.8 seconds completely ignoring her. T'Alora was on the cusp of giving up and moving to a table all her own when he finally turned away from his PADD. "Forgive me; I was in the midst of a most intriguing article." Veren extended his hand and offered her a seat. "A Starfleet engineer, one Admiral Scott, has postulated that warp factor 12 may be achievable within the next decade."

"That is a most interesting theory, although I am not surprised," she replied. "He is a very innovative engineer. Uncle Scotty was the first to propose that trans-warp beaming was possible and was also the first to prove it."

"Uncle?" he asked, one eyebrow slowly rising.

The blush crept unbidden into her cheeks. "The Admiral served alongside my parents aboard the _Enterprise_. He is a close family-friend who is most deserving of the title of uncle; he was also the one who first developed my interest in warp mechanics."

"Fascinating."

"Indeed." Silence lingered momentarily before she began, "Lieutenant Commander, I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you for your assistance when I was in need of medical attention. I also value your continued discretion in light of our previous conversation."

"No thanks are necessary, however, you are most welcome." Having said what she needed to say T'Alora prepared to depart. "Lieutenant, may I make a personal query?"

"Of course."

"Are you in contact with many of the officers from aboard the _Enterprise_?"

"Yes," she replied.

"And do you also consider them to be members of your family?" She readily acknowledged that she did. "You must have had a remarkable upbringing." If he were not so passive of voice and expression she might have thought the Lieutenant Commander was almost wistful.

"It was…unique," she conceded. She proceeded to ask after his own upbringing.

"I was raised in New Gol." When Veren did not elaborate further T'Alora considered the subject closed. They sat opposite one another uncertain of what to say when he noticed other crewmembers engaged in various recreational pursuit. "Would you care to play a round of Kal-toh?"

"Yes, thank you."

Veren activated the board and they remained locked in competition for 1 hour and 33 minutes until T'Alora successfully completed the sphere.

* * *

><p>Their meetings outside of work were casual. When they met the topics of conversation were varied and broad and ranged from the latest technical articles they had read to places of interest that they had visited. She found Veren to be a steady and intelligent man; he was also a good listener and discovered far more about her than she ever did about him.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2285.304, 1916 hours.** The Lieutenant Commander was off-duty that evening so she set about the ship in search of him. Important repair work needed to be undertaken in Engineering and his signature was necessary before they could begin. T'Alora took it upon herself to locate him, trying first the Mess Hall, followed by the gymnasium, before ultimately arriving at his personal quarters.

Veren answered the door after the third chime. He stood in the doorway in a loose tunic and trousers, attempting to project an aura of calm ease that she could tell at a glance he did not feel. After apprising him of the situation he took the proffered PADD and signed it; as he did so she noticed the hard cover book sitting on top of his bed.

"You were reading."

Pain and sadness briefly flickered across his expression. "Yes." He stepped back into the room to retrieve the volume, allowing her to peruse it. It was a collection of pre-Surakian poetry written by Felmar. She inspected the binding and intricate scrollwork quite closely, surviving Vulcan manuscripts being extremely rare. "This tome belonged to my ko-mekh; my sa-mekh purchased it for her prior to their bonding." Veren swallowed hard. "They are both deceased."

T'Alora immediately stopped her examination. This book was sacred to him and she carefully returned it, not wanting to further intrude on his privacy and grief. "Tushah nash-veh k'odu*."

"Shaya tonat*."

She turned to leave him to his solitude when she was struck by a sudden thought. Although T'Alora was uncertain how he might receive her offer—perhaps he would view it as a sign of weakness or as a quirk of her humanity—it did not stop her from making speaking up. "Veren." He held the door open and leaned forward, listening close. "I will not pretend to understand such losses as you have suffered; nevertheless, I am available should you wish to speak about your clan at a future juncture."

He gave a slight nod and she returned to Engineering to begin repairs.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2285.305, 0218 hours. **Her shift having ended T'Alora returned to her room for some much needed rest. No sooner had her head hit the pillow then her own door chime sounded and she debated the merits of rising to answer. There were no red alerts issued, the ship was not under attack—and yet whoever was in the hallway was insistent that she respond.

As the door pulled back she became the object of Veren's scrutiny as he eyed her tussled hair and sleep clothing. He was not as somber as before, she noted, but he was just as serious. "I should not have disturbed you at this late hour. Forgive me." He turned away.

"Lieutenant Commander." He paused and as he turned back she noticed the manuscript clasped in his hands. "I am at your disposal." She stepped back to let him inside yet he lingered in the doorway.

"I…" his fingers drummed over the cover, "I wanted to lend you this book."

Veren held the text out to her and T'Alora hesitated to accept it. "I would not want to deprive you…"

"The works of Felmar were meant to be shared—at least, I believe, that is what my ko-mekh would have wanted." He placed the volume gently in her hand.

"Then I will take great care of this text," she hastened to reassure him.

He gave a slight nod. "I am certain that you will." T'Alora examined the aged manuscript that had been entrusted to her. She envisioned Veren's parents—shadowy, indistinct figures in her mind's eye—and wondered at the circumstances that made this book so central to their legacy. Gifts were not idly given in Vulcan culture making the collection of poetry even more significant to her superior officer's history. Despite her exhaustion T'Alora decided to make an attempt at unraveling the mystery and began reading until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2285.314, 1255 hours. ** She approached Veren as they made their way to the recycling chutes to deposit their trays and they began a discourse on her thoughts on Felmar.

"His prose was very intellectually stimulating and I found him to be a particularly expressive author," T'Alora said. "His work was not only evocative but also flagrantly emotional."

Veren's stride stuttered as they ventured down the hall back to Engineering. Glancing around to ensure that they were not overheard he replied, "You are in some degree of disbelief that these verses were written by a Vulcan and yet you are well aware of the long, emotionally complex history of our people; furthermore, you were raised among emotionally expressive humans. Logic would dictate that you would be more accustomed to such prose as you would have had more exposure to it in your formative years."

She conceded the point but added, "It is true that I knew that the Vulcan people prior to Surak were an emotional and oftentimes violent race; however, reading these poems has placed this theoretical knowledge in a more practical light. It is a difficult image to reconcile for one so unaccustomed."

He dipped his head at her. "I believe I understand your dilemma."

They approached the turbolift and entered together. "Would you allow me one more personal query?" she asked as they descended.

"Of course."

"Why did your sa-mekh make an offering of this book to your ko-mekh?"

Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw the ghost of a smile cross his lips as he continued to stare straight ahead at the doors. "I have insufficient time to satisfactorily answer that question now. Perhaps we may discuss it more at a later date."

"Very well." The doors opened and they stepped out into the Bay. "I will return the book to you this evening." They each gave a parting nod then walked their separate ways, tending to their duties.

* * *

><p>* "Tushah nash-veh k'odu" = Vulkhansu, "I grieve with thee."<p>

* "Shaya tonat" = Vulkhansu, "Thank you."


	43. Chapter 43

**Fire**

_** Personal Quarters,**__**T'Kara Mol,**_** 2285.357, 1628 hours.** T'Alora had so far made great use of her day off: she tidied up her quarters, laundered her clothing and caught up on her personal correspondence. That afternoon she visited the gymnasium to adhere to her physical fitness routine and ended up sparring with Lieutenant Junior Grade Levian from Navigation. They were evenly matched for each other and the bout left her sore but invigorated.

She was nearly to her quarters when the ship rocked beneath her feet. Years of living and working on starships informed her that the explosion had generated from within, not from without the ship. No sooner had she realized this than the yellow alert sounded and T'Alora took off for Engineering. Upon her arrival she discovered the Bay was in chaos.

Smoke permeated the air and the room was filled with the alarm and people coughing and scurrying about. In the far distance she heard the intermittent hisses of the fire suppressant system working to contain a blaze. To her left she saw Lieutenant Portak dragging a badly burned body into the corner; it's features too charred as to make it recognizable. _The Lieutenant Commander…_

Guler moved to stand in front of her, his hands held up before him, before she could even finish that thought. The skin was green and peeling with boils beginning to bubble. Her friend was in deep shock.

"What happened?" T'Alora asked. He stared at her blankly but said nothing. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently, forcing his attention on her as she repeated her question.

"I do not know," he replied in a daze. "We were inspecting the fusion reactors and 0.4 seconds later the room…exploded."

She grabbed the nearest officer she could, ordering him to escort Guler to Medical; she then moved toward the area of the Bay housing the impulse drive. The smoke was thicker and heavier here, making it difficult to see let alone breathe, but that was of no consequence as she knew the rooms as well as the back of her own hand.

"_**Etek bolaya im kes-falterayek i**_!*"

T'Alora followed the shouts and discovered Lieutenant Commander Veren standing alone with a large pipe wrench in his hands, attempting to contain the leaking plasma as best he could. His uniform was torn and he was sweating profusely and covered in soot but did not appear to be otherwise injured. No sooner had she observed the situation then Ensign Kaltea appeared through the opposite door with the arc-welder in his hands.

"No!" she cried upon perceiving what Veren intended to do. Both men turned to her. "There is a 67.9% chance of sparking another explosion if you choose to use the arc-welder."

"That is a risk we must incur. There is no time…"

"The EPS conduit _must_ be replaced."

She was able to detect his glare through the haze of smoke. "There is insufficient time to effect a replacement; if we do not contain the leak immediately we will lose more plasma than we are capable of substituting and the ship will lose all impulse power."

The ensign's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them as they debated their next course of action when without warning T'Alora took the tool from his hands. Cradling it to her she crouched down beside Veren to examine the break; he started to protest. "T'Alora." She ignored him and began fixing the tool in place. "Lieutenant, I am your superior officer and I order you to switch places with me."

"Continue to contain the leak." She activated the welder, careful to keep her hands steady as she worked, yet she held her breath and illogically hoped for the 38.1% outcome that the plasma would not blow up in her face. The crack in the seal was 96.3% closed when a small jet of plasma sparked just as she had predicted. T'Alora only had time to turn her face away when she felt the flames lick at her cheek; the arc-welder finished the seal and the fire went out as quickly as it had sparked.

Veren dropped his wrench and helped her to her feet, strong concern transmitting through the hand-to-hand contact as he pulled her upward. The pain was excruciating and a single tear fell from her right eye down the unscarred side of her face.

"Ensign!" Kaltea stepped forward. "Escort the Lieutenant to Medical."

"Aye, Sir."

"I am perfectly capable of reaching Medical unaccompanied." Her protests fell on deaf ears as Veren turned to the nearest working comm console to update the captain. Ensign Kaltea took her gently by the elbow and T'Alora allowed herself to be led away.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Medical Suite, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2285.357, 2136 hours. **Healer Ketrick cleaned and treated her wound; as he did so he informed her that Lieutenant Rion had been killed in the blast and that Lieutenant Guler was badly injured but was expected to fully recover. The Healer pressed her for information regarding the incident but T'Alora had little to give and soon he assisted her into a light healing trance that would allow the skin graft to take hold.

She awoke only to discover Marvox seated at her bedside; between them was a tray containing a glass of water and a lukewarm slice of vegetable casserole. T'Alora propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him. "How long have you been here?"

"Not including my departure to the Mess for some sustenance I have been by your bedside for the last 2.27 hours."

She pushed the plate away and reached for the water, drinking it greedily. When she felt she was able she very tenderly reached up to inspect her cheek. The skin was new, itchy, and highly sensitive; T'Alora also discovered her left eyebrow was missing, the hair having been earlier singed off. Aside from that there was no other visible scarring that she could detect.

"You have lost much of your usual coloring," Marvox remarked as she attempted to propel herself out of bed. She supposed what he said was true but did not care; instead she inquired after the status of the ship as she could not perceive the steady rumble of the engines beneath her feet. "The Captain has ordered a full halt on the _T'Kara Mol _until all systems in Engineering have been re-examined and deemed fully operational."

"Then there is still no idea as to how the original accident occurred?"

"None."

T'Alora searched for her clothing and began pulling on her exercise pants. "I must go and investigate."

"You will do nothing of the sort," Healer Ketrick declared as he re-entered the space. "Lieutenant Commander, see that Lieutenant T'Alora returns to her quarters." Addressing her, he added, "You are restricted to bed rest for the next 12 hours."

T'Alora silently fumed as she pulled on her boots and when she was dressed Marvox followed through with his instructions. When they reached the turbolift she overrode his command so that they would return to Engineering. "My orders…"

"Marvox, my first duty is to this ship and I will not rest until I have ascertained the status of Engineering." He did not refuse her but he did step closer to see that she did not try and evade him further once they arrived.

The doors opened on the Engineering Bay and she saw a scene much different from the previous one she had witnessed earlier. The smoke had cleared and repair and clean-up work was already underway. Lieutenant Commander Veren stood in the middle of the room consulting his PADD and directing traffic. His eyes widened in surprise as he caught her approach. "Lieutenant."

"What is the status of the fusion reactor?"

Veren examined her closely. "Earlier you disregarded a direct order." She studiously ignored him and moved closer to read off of his PADD. He soon returned to her previous line of questioning. "A full replacement of the defective plasma helix is currently being effected. All other coils are being reviewed to ensure that no additional leaks are present and a further systems check is being undertaken before impulse power is re-engaged."

"Do we know what lead to the degradation of the coil where the blast originated?" T'Alora felt Marvox's presence move closer against her back.

"That has not yet been determined." Veren tapped the screen and she saw that he was calling up her medical status. He looked to her curiously. "You are not authorized to be here."

"It is of no consequence…"

"I attempted to re-direct her to her quarters as instructed," Marvox interjected.

She glared in his direction; he was truly beginning to irritate her. "I am not in need of rest. Healer Ketrick is being overly cautious. My expertise is required here to help expedite the repairs." As she spoke the edge of her left ear began to itch. She scratched without notice until her fingernails turned red with blood. Her re-injured skin did not escape Marvox's keen powers of observation.

"Curious…"

"Lieutenant," Veren demanded, "You must return to your quarters immediately."

T'Alora hastily wiped the blood away. "That is not necessary…"

"Lieutenant Nyal." The engineer stopped in his tracks and Veren handed over his PADD. "You are in charge until my return. Marvox, you are dismissed from your previous duty; I will escort the Lieutenant to her billet."

Marvox searched both their countenances before acquiescing and departing. Placing his hand on the small of her back, Veren gently but firmly led her to the turbolift. T'Alora was too angry to protest but she turned on him the moment the doors were closed. "Why would you interfere and not allow me to be of service?"

He clasped his hands behind his back and coolly stared down at her. "You have already disregarded orders twice today and each time it was to your detriment."

T'Alora's nostrils flared indignantly. "If you are referring to my usage of the arc-welder…"

"Had you allowed me to change positions with you…"

"…in the midst of an emergent situation where…"

"…than I would have incurred the risk of the welder…"

"…you yourself claimed that time was of the essence…"

"…sparking with the plasma which I had already anticipated…"

"…than you would be correct that I disobeyed a direct order in order to prevent additional damage to the ship and the crew."

"…would occur prior to your arrival."

She quietly fumed but said nothing as they stared one another down, T'Alora craning her neck up to meet his eyes. The doors opened on her floor and still neither of them moved until they began to close again and Veren threw his long, muscular arm out to stop it. "You may deny your exhaustion all you wish," he said quietly, "but it is most evident given your recent behavior that you are in need of rest."

Was he…was he accusing her of not being in control of herself, of being too emotional?! The very idea galled her. She had—quite literally—placed herself in the line of fire for him and this was all he had to say to her?!

Before she could check herself T'Alora slapped him across the cheek with a resounding thwack that stung them both. So deeply ashamed was she at having proven him correct she fled the lift for her room without a backward glance.

* * *

><p>* "Etek blaya im kes-falterayek i!" = Vulkhansu, "We need an arc-welder now!"<p> 


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N:** Today is my birthday (and it's a big one—woot woot!) so here I am spreading the love. Enjoy this little gift from me to you! Cheers!

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><p><span><strong>Cruel to be Kind<strong>

She had not spoken to Veren outside of work since the evening of the incident as she was unable to face him without being overwhelmed with humiliation. She had thought she was long past such strong emotional outbursts but T'Alora discovered she was still very capable of behaving like a petulant child.

This notion vexed her to no end.

* * *

><p><em><strong> Personal Quarters,<strong>__**T'Kara Mol,**_** 2286.001, 1628 hours.** "I do not understand why you insisted I accompany you. He is merely unwell and will return to active duty within the next 24 hours, if not before."

T'Melia continued on down the hallway undeterred, the tray of soup and bread in her hands. "Marvox is suffering from a cold and is in need of sustenance. It is only logical that we take him his dinner and visit, just as we visited you when you were injured."

When confronted with her logic T'Alora conceded and dutifully followed her friend. Perhaps if she had known of T'Melia's plans previous to the end day meal she could have pre-meditated an equally logical dodge…

It had not escaped T'Alora's notice that Marvox was increasing his attentions towards her. She believed that she did her part to discourage him but more often than not her friends—particularly T'Melia—undermined her efforts. Tonight was one such night and she was not looking forward to their ensuing visit.

"Hold this." Her friend stopped in front of Marvox's door and deposited the tray into her hands.

"Why must I carry the dinner tray in when you have brought it all this way from the Mess?"

T'Melia dropped down on one knee to fix the loose zipper on her uniform boot. "Because I must re-fasten my footwear lest it cause me to lose my balance. Now if you will continue to hold the tray I will ring the chime…"

The door opened to deposit Lieutenant Commander Veren at that same instant and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of them. T'Alora felt her face burn hot under his gaze. She did not want to see him, nor did she want him to misconstrue the intent of their visit, and yet by all appearances she looked as if she had orchestrated it completely. She struggled mightily to disguise her distress.

"Greetings, Lieutenants." He examined the tray in her hands. "I see you have brought the Lieutenant Commander soup to hasten his recovery. Allow me to step aside." With a sweep of his hand Veren allowed them to pass and T'Melia led the way while T'Alora studiously avoided his gaze.

They discovered their friend sitting propped up in his bed and arranged his tray so that he might eat from it more comfortably. T'Alora was correct in her earlier belief that Marvox was not suffering from anything more serious than a cold; however, he appeared to her eyes to be playing up the disadvantages of his current state of health for the sake of garnering more company.

She excused herself as quickly as she could.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2286.006, 2005 hours.** "T'Alora."

Her evening had passed in pleasant stillness as she read from one of her technical journals only to be marred now by Marvox's presence as she returned to her room. He hastened up the hallway to join her and she was sorry to find herself alone with him. Fortunately for her they walked side-by-side in silence until they were one meter from her door.

"T'Alora, there is something I must ask of you," he began, "But first, allow me to convey my admiration of your person. You are all that a Vulcan woman ought to be: aesthetically pleasing, cunning and strong. It is because of these very qualities that I have continued to single you out. My attention, I am certain, has not gone unnoticed, and I know I will be a most conscientious partner and ample provider for you and any children we might have."

_Oh no_. She saw the question coming, saw his lips form the words as if in slow motion, and dreaded it with every fiber of her being. This was so far removed from anything she wanted and yet Marvox did not see the look of horror in her expression.

"Therefore I have decided that now is the best time to declare koon-ut so'lik*. It will be a most advantageous match for us both. Will you accept me?"

He spoke so earnestly that it gave her a moment's pause. She did not want to callously rebuff him anymore than she wanted to become his adun'a. "Marvox…"

"Ashalik*?"

Inwardly T'Alora cringed at the endearment. "I-I cannot accept."

His certainty of a favorable reply precluded him from immediately comprehending her response. Once he understood he asked, "You cannot?"

"No."

"Are you already spoken for?"

"No, I am not bonded." She chewed on the inside of her lower lip and carefully chose her words. "It is true that you would be an attentive partner and ample provider, however, our personalities are so disparate as to make me a firm believer that a union between us would be most unsuitable."

Marvox folded his arms across his chest and she could see the storm of displeasure brewing in his dark eyes. "Are there no circumstances under which you might reconsider my proposal?"

She gave a slight shake of the head. She did not want to be cruel and yet there was no escaping the harsh truth. "No."

"Very well." He took a deep breath and spun on his heel, abandoning her in the middle of the hallway. T'Alora kept her composure and retreated to her room only to give way to her own inner turmoil once the doors were safely shut. There was no doubt in her mind that she had been prudent in her refusal…

…and yet…

Setting her PADD aside she hastened to the comm to contact her mother as she was desperately in need of her counsel.

* * *

><p><em><strong>150 Greenleaf Street, San Francisco,<strong>_** 2286.005, 0348 hours.** Nyota was awakened by the chiming comm. and only as she eased herself up out of bed did she become vaguely aware of her daughter's distress. This knowledge spurred her on and made her move faster than she otherwise would at that hour.

T'Alora was out with her story in a matter of minutes. She'd gotten a sense in past talks that Marvox harbored some attraction towards her daughter but not so much as to declare koon-ut so'lik and so soon. Nyota knew her daughter had made the right decision but she could see she was still shaken up about it.

"Mama?"

Apparently she'd been lost in her own thoughts for too long. "Well I'll give him credit for his good taste…"

"_Mama_…"

"What? It's true!" she said with an easy smile. "As for the proposal, well, I agree with you. I'm sure he's a perfectly nice man but by all accounts you're just too different. You wouldn't have been right for each other, plus you're still so young..."

"We are not so incompatible as all that…" T'Alora started to argue.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, but Sweetheart, bonding—it's a very big deal. You don't just join your life with someone else's on a whim and Marvox…well he wasn't The One and we both know it. You did what you had to do."

She watched her daughter heave a great sigh. "You are correct."

Nyota pressed on. "And I know you feel badly, Honey, but it'll all blow over. You'll see."

T'Alora's posture sagged in relief at being comforted and, more importantly, understood. "Perhaps."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2286.007, 0645 hours.** All throughout breakfast she felt T'Melia's eyes upon her. In retrospect T'Alora realized her friend had been championing the match since the beginning of their 3 year mission and was now most likely in search of answers as to where her shepherding of their relationship had failed. No sooner were they finished with their oatmeal did she speak.

"Why did you refuse him?"

T'Alora looked away. "We were incompatible."

"How? He has a great facility for languages, you have a great facility for languages. You are both analytical. You partake of games of 3-D chess although you are the one with greater skill. You each have a disinclination toward plomeek soup. If Marvox believed you both to be suitable bond-mates then why did you not also concur?"

Her temper flared at the accusatory tone. "T'Melia, you are forgetting your place." T'Alora spoke hastily and instantly regretted it when she saw her friend's face fall open in shock. "Marvox is a good man," she conceded, "And you are correct in ascertaining that we possess certain personality traits that are harmonious with one another, but it was not enough to build a future on and I am certain that there is a better match for him in the world than I." Still more quietly she added, "I did not regard him as highly as he regarded me. It would have been an unequal partnership."

T'Melia continued to pursue their friend's cause and she was most animated when speaking in his favor. "But why did you not suggest a period of prolonged courtship to determine whether your personalities might become more aligned in time? Surely you…"

"You are most interested in Marvox," T'Alora interjected. "If you believe him to be such a worthy mate why do you not pursue him yourself?"

Her friend blushed and looked away. "I thought you knew," she said softly. T'Alora could not discover her meaning until T'Melia looked across the room, her gaze locking on Jenaya seated at a table with her fellow colleagues from the science department. "My own preference is not congruent with Marvox's."

This was surprising. In all their 2.94 years of acquaintance she had not been made aware of her friend's sexuality. "And how do you get along…?"

T'Melia shook her head. "I do not want to discuss that now."

T'Alora seized the opportunity to help make her friend understand. "Then perhaps you might also see why I am reticent to discuss my own personal state of affairs."

T'Melia's jaw fell minutely and her eyes widened at the logic that was thus presented to her. "Yes," she said, "Of course. Forgive me."

"There is no offense where none is taken."

They did not speak of Marvox and his failed courtship again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Engineering Bay, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2286.013, 0112 hours.** T'Alora was tired, not physically, but mentally tired of carrying the weight of Marvox's failed proposal around with her everywhere she went. No place on the ship was safe from the gossip and although few dared venture to question her directly for particulars she was not immune to the wagging tongues and lingering stares behind her back. That evening she could not sleep for thinking of it but rather than put herself through a punishing new gym routine she grabbed a PADD and headed for Engineering; it was the one area of the ship aside from her personal quarters that felt most like home.

The Bay was quiet at that hour, requiring no more than a skeleton crew to see that all was operational, and she slipped in unseen looking for a quiet perch to read. Ironically, T'Alora found solace in the same room where she had nearly lost her small finger 170 days earlier and she soon settled herself comfortably among the tarps covering the storage crates.

She fell asleep 1.4 hours later.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Engineering Bay, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2286.013, 0650 hours.** "Lieutenant." No response. Veren very gently shook her again by the shoulder in an attempt to rouse her. "Lieutenant." Nothing. "T'Alora."

She came to with a start and he reached for her PADD as it slipped from her lap. "I am awake. What is required of me?" She looked around the room in an attempt to get her bearings; he understood the sensation well and knew how disjointed his own thought process was upon waking suddenly in an unfamiliar environment.

"You are in Engineering," he whispered. "It would appear you fell asleep here." The expression on her face might best be described as a grimace and it amused him to see. She soon reached up to try and contain her dark, unkempt hair as it flowed in every direction. "I thought it best to rouse you so that you might have the opportunity of returning to your quarters unobserved and change into your uniform."

"Yes," she replied, still somewhat distracted. "Thank you." T'Alora pushed off of her make-shift bed and moved toward the turbolift.

"No thanks are necessary."

She nodded and quit the room. Veren soon discovered her hair tie among the folds of the tarp. It had dislodged itself in her slumber and he pocketed it without a word.

* * *

><p>* koon-ut so'lik = Vulkhansu, marriage proposal<p>

* "Ashalik?" = Vulkhansu, "Darling?"


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N:** Thanks for all the birthday wishes everybody and thanks so much for reviewing! I'm glad people are keeping up with the kids' stories; it makes me _so _happy to know that people are interested. Thanks for tuning in and I hope you enjoy this latest update!

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><p><span><strong>The K'net I'nari<strong>

_** Engineering Bay, T'Kara Mol, **_**2286.038, 2130 hours.** A truce had been called in their friendship since the early morning when Veren discovered her in Engineering and they were once more on easy terms. T'Alora had also begun—in recent weeks—to act unofficially as Veren's second-in-command, as she had taken to spending more and more time in Engineering to escape the scrutiny Marvox's failed proposal had brought to bear. This evening they were currently sitting in the Lieutenant Commander's office drinking tea and reviewing the duty rosters for the upcoming week.

"We cannot have Ensign Kaltea assigned with Lieutenant Amaan."

He brought his mug away from his lips. "Why not?"

"Individually they are good workers," she began, "However, together they are a distraction to one another. Their inefficiency increases by 17.3% when they are assigned to cover the same tasks—much like my sa-kai, Se'tak, when he is given a commission by our mother that he does not wish to undertake."

The corners of his mouth ticked upward ever so slightly. "Most interesting." Veren re-arranged the schedule. "Your sa-kai is by all accounts a most intriguing person."

"They both are," she instantly replied, "Only Se'tak garners the larger share of attention due to the unusual predicaments he finds himself in and his frequent emotional outbursts." Glancing up from her PADD it occurred to T'Alora that her commanding officer knew much about her clan while she knew comparatively little about his. She questioned him on this and Veren instantly set aside the duty roster and folded his hands in his lap.

"What do you wish to know?"

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No."

"You have previously stated that you were raised in New Gol. Were you born there?"

"No. I was born in Shi'Khar on 2255.219."

T'Alora blinked rapidly several times in succession. "You were born on Vulcan?" He nodded. She had not met a single peer who had been born on their planet before the Destruction. "What was the planet like?"

Veren furrowed his brow. "I do not understand your query."

Her cheeks began to burn at her own foolishness. "Forgive me. I only ask what Vulcan that was was like because there are so few of my acquaintance that openly discuss the planet. My sa-mekh cannot speak of his home that was lost and my sa-mekh-al only states that the new world possesses a more lush landscape than the old due to the increased stores of water that are present."

"Ah." He was silent for 3.88 minutes and stared off into the middle distance. "My memories of Vulcan are indistinct and I believe would prove unsatisfactory to you. My sa-mekh and I moved to the Petra Colony when I was 2.4 standard years of age, 109 days after the death of my ko-mekh."

She stiffened in her seat, unaware that she had entered into—what must be for him—a difficult period of his life. "I am sorry."

"You did not know." T'Alora bit her tongue and bent her head back over her work, effectively terminating the conversation…or so she thought. "I was 1.9 standard years of age when my ko-mekh passed. My memories of her are as imprecise as my memories of our former planet."

She jerked her head up. "Veren, you need not…"

"I know I need not continue," he interjected, "And yet I wish to. In speaking about her I am allowing a portion of her katra to continue on." T'Alora was honored to be trusted with this piece of his history and dutifully gave him her full attention. "Her name was Dexala. She was an artist. She worked out of a studio in our apartment in the city. She died of a cerebral aneurysm, passing without warning." Here he caught her eye and saw how his irises shimmered from the pooling moisture. "My sa-mekh—Vetrik—never fully recovered from her loss. We moved so that he would not always be confronted with his memories of her; 73 days later Vulcan was destroyed. No others from our clan survived but us."

"Tushah nash-veh k'odu*."

He gave a nod then returned to his PADD to complete his work and T'Alora followed his example. She would not attempt to delve into the mystery of his clan any further.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Engineering Bay, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2286.052, 1041 hours.** The _T'Kara Mol_ was en route to the Vulcan colony of Atalani located in the Demoid system. Seismic activity had been reported by residents there and the colonists required the aid of additional Healers; they also requested assistance in rebuilding damaged property.

At the words 'seismic activity' T'Alora noticed many of her colleagues held their breath. Nero's madness had done lasting damage to the collective Vulcan psyche, damage that she knew would continue to be felt for many generations.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Atalani Colony, <strong>_**2286.055, 0802 hours.** She was among the first away team beamed down to the surface to assess the extent of the damage. After surveying the area and drawing up new building plans the crew and the colonists set to work. By the morning of their second day the required scaffolding was already erected around 5 of the damaged buildings and renovations had commenced.

T'Alora and Lieutenant Commander Veren had been walking down the main street and stopped outside the municipal building. A plain, 7 story structure, it stood a full 27.3 meters high. She glanced at her PADD. "This building is mostly intact but the roof needs to be repaired. I will assist Lieutenant Portak with this project."

"No." She looked up at him sharply, uncomprehending. Instead of explaining himself Veren consulted his PADD. "I will assign Ensign Kaltea to this project."

She said nothing and they continued down the avenue toward the school. A much smaller structure standing 11.7 meters high, it had had numerous windows blown out which were now being replaced by Lieutenant Guler, who appeared in need of assistance. "I will work with Lieutenant Guler…"

Before she could finish a cry of "Yuzh-tor*!" rang out overhead. Veren quickly spun her around and shielded her as the 1 meter² pane of glass fell and shattered directly behind them.

When she looked up into his face his eyes were wide and his nostrils were flaring. "Are you injured?"

"No," she replied. "Are you injured?"

"No." He looked up at Guler who peered over the scaffolding at the wreckage. "You will _not_ be working with Lieutenant Guler."

Her eyebrow arched high. Veren was being illogical. If anything this incident proved that her colleague was in need of her assistance and she told him as much. He squared his shoulders. "You are correct." The Lieutenant Commander punched in several codes on his PADD and she saw his work immediately transferred to her screen. "I am relieving myself from duty. Lieutenant T'Alora, you are in charge." He pulled out his personal communicator and took several steps out into the middle of the empty road. "_T'Kara Mol_, one to beam up."

She did not understand what was happening. "Lieutenant Commander…"

"Nam-tor tun-bosh*," he whispered before de-materializing.

T'Alora stared at the spot where he had stood for 15.6 seconds after he left. Try though she might she simply could not account for his abrupt departure. She shook her head and consulted her PADD; setting it aside she rolled up her shirt sleeves and ascended the scaffolding to assist Guler.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Atalani Colony, <strong>_**2286.055, 1324 hours.** Captain Evanna beamed down after the mid-day meal to request an update. The colonists and crew were working steadily toward reconstruction and T'Alora anticipated the _T'Kara Mol_ would be able to resume it's previous schedule within 11 days. They walked as they spoke and she and the Captain turned down an unoccupied side street where the façade of a clothing store lay crumbled in the middle of the road. The structure was scheduled for demolition the following day and a new building with reinforced supports was to be erected in it's stead. They were quite alone as they viewed the wreckage.

"You are aware that Lieutenant Commander Veren has chosen to remain aboard the ship and monitor Engineering for the duration of our stay?"

"Yes," T'Alora replied.

The older woman turned and examined her closely, searching for any hint of expression amongst her features. "Do you know why?"

"No."

She hoped an explanation was forthcoming but instead the Captain wordlessly looked back over the ruined store. Stepping forward she picked up a piece of rubble from amongst the debris. "The colonists are most fortunate that there were not more deaths." She dropped the rock and watched it skitter down the road before tucking her hands behind her back. "I will return to the ship. Keep me apprised of any new information."

"Aye, Captain."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol<strong>_**, 2286.055, 2107 hours.** He did not appear in the Mess that evening and after a quick shower T'Alora changed into more clothing and paid him a visit. As the day progressed she began to have her suspicions as to why Veren had chosen to remain ship-bound and she wished to have them confirmed. He answered the door after the second chime. "Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant Commander."

He did not immediately admit her. As always his eyes were most expressive and there was much pain and sadness that lingered there. "I see you heeded my earlier warning."

"Yes." Finally he stepped back and she walked in, noting the asenoi and mat on the floor. "Have I interrupted your meditation?"

"I have been meditating for the last 5.82 hours; your interruption is not unwelcome."

Seating herself in his desk chair she waited until he was likewise seated on the bed. "May I make a personal query?"

He pinched his lips together. "Yes."

"What was your sa-mekh's profession?"

He answered with a single word. "Construction."

The Captain's words harkened back to her. "_The colonists are most fortunate that there were not more deaths._" "Vetrik perished while at work."

"Yes." They locked eyes and he added, "I was 11.78 years of age when the accident took place. The scaffolding collapsed and he fell 50.1 meters. He…" Veren steadied himself, "he did not pass quickly."

T'Alora sucked in a breath. She understood now why he had behaved so strangely that morning; his fear of heights was not unfounded. It was also likely that he was afraid one of their number might meet a similar painful end. "I will continue to personally oversee the repair work in the colony," she informed him, "and ensure that all safety precautions are adhered to so that our colleagues do not suffer the same fate."

They simultaneously rose from their seats and in the narrow space their faces were millimeters apart. Veren's breath was hot on her cheek and as she looked up at him with wide brown eyes she thought he was about to lean in and kiss her; instead he drew back and verbally offered his thanks. T'Alora took his words as her cue to leave and ducked around him to slip out of the room. She was resolved to do her duty for them both and spare him any further distress.

* * *

><p>* "Tushah nash-veh k'odu" = Vulkhansu, "I grieve with thee."<p>

* "Yuzh-tor!" = Vulkhansu, "Caution!"

* "Nam-tor tun-bosh" = Vulkhansu, "Be careful"


	46. Chapter 46

**Time Marches On**

_**Engineering Bay, T'Kara Mol,**_**2286.070, 2214 hours. **After that evening in Veren's quarters T'Alora did not have any time to dwell on him, his tragic past, or what might have transpired between them, as she was too focused on the rebuilding efforts in the colony. They had had to remain on the planet an additional 4 days as numerous aftershocks shook the foundations of formerly sound buildings requiring all structures be re-checked.

Once they broke Atalani orbit she proceeded from the transporter room straight to Engineering. She wanted to be brought up to speed on what she had missed in the Bay over the last 16.8 days.

As always, the current shift had a running checklist of items to monitor or repair. T'Alora noted they consisted of the usual tasks save for one: the rotor she had previously mended on 2285.208 was malfunctioning again. She flicked the PADD up to the top of the screen and noted that Ensign Kaltea was the only crewmember on duty this evening, as the work on Atalani had necessitated many of them work double shifts, herself included. However, this task was one best suited to her and T'Alora saw no logic in putting the work off to a later date.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Commander Veren was preparing to retire when he heard the sounds of a sonic screwdriver coming from behind the water tanks. Crossing the threshold into the room to investigate he discovered Lieutenant T'Alora on her knees, her right arm stuck into the wall up to her elbow, as she attempted to reach the stuck rotor in the conduit cooling system—and all while still covered in the dust and grime from her latest assignment with the Atalani Colony.<p>

"You have just returned from the surface, have you not?"

Her startled reaction amused him as she shifted position and turned her face upward. "I have."

"Where you worked a 14 hour shift, same as the others?"

Her khav-kur* eyes narrowed marginally. She was becoming…angry? He had been making a careful study of her minute facial expressions, such as they were, but was still unused to reading them. "Yes."

"And now you are here, inspecting the very same rotor that nearly claimed the distal portion of your fifth finger 227 days ago, despite the fact that you are no longer on duty?" he asked.

T'Alora was much more curt with him than she had been previously, confirming that she was indeed becoming temperamental. "Yes."

"Then there is, I believe, a Terran saying that—when properly adapted—would best describe you." Her eyes widened and the annoyance dissipated. Unused to the new phrase he told her in somewhat halted Standard, "'You can take the girl out of Engineering but you cannot take Engineering out of the girl.'" She knelt there silently for 21.2 seconds. "Did I not use the idiom correctly?"

"You did."

He felt triumphant. "With that said, I believe that this task may wait for you until your next shift. You require sustenance after your long day. I will accompany you to the Mess."

She arched one elegant eyebrow and regarded him quietly for 16.9 seconds before removing her arm from the wall and re-attaching the protective grate. He walked close by her side to the turbolift and inquired after the specific nature of her work as well as the well-being of the surviving colonists. She was highly satisfied with the people she met and the quality of the work they had produced together; there was no doubt in her mind that should another seismic event occur of similar or greater magnitude the people would now be better equipped to handle it.

Veren bade her sit down while he retrieved her meal. It was a duty normally reserved for spouses yet her tiredness compelled him to act on her behalf. T'Alora was unaware of how her posture betrayed her in moments like these; her shoulders dropped approximately 3 cm and she began leaning forward 4.1 degrees. When he returned to her table with a garden salad and slice of tofu loaf on his tray he discovered she had been joined by Lieutenants T'Melia and Guler who had previously been talking amongst themselves in the back of the room. Veren joined them, setting the meal before T'Alora and easily engaging in conversation with the others while she ate.

* * *

><p>1.3 hours later T'Alora sat back in her chair and took the opportunity to unobtrusively observe her friends. An evening of good company and conversation was exactly what she needed after the completion of such a grueling mission and while she was exhausted she was loathe to exit the room. She was more relaxed than she had been in…well, she was too tired to calculate exactly how long a time.<p>

A moment later she looked up and caught T'Melia's gaze darting back and forth between her and Veren, an unspoken question gleaming in her eyes. Although they had not begun their working relationship on the best of terms T'Alora now held Veren and his friendship in the highest regard; but they were friends, nothing more. They had 2.15 more years of their 3 year mission with which they all needed to live and work together and she did not want to risk ruining their relationship with gossip of a similar type to what she had had to live through with Marvox.

* * *

><p>Out of the corner of his eye Veren noticed T'Alora meet her friend's curious gaze and give a decidedly negative shake of her head. Was T'Melia perhaps mutely inquiring into whether their association went beyond the professional? It had not, though he was…<em>hopeful<em>…that it would, in time. T'Alora was brilliant and fiercely independent; she was also guarded and young, and her experience with Marvox only made her more cautious. With all that in mind Veren was content to be allowed in her presence, biding his time until she was ready to receive such overtures as he was want to make.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2286.099, 1849 hours.** "Good evening, Lieutenant." T'Alora looked up as Veren spoke. "I received your message. May I join you?"

"Of course." She gestured to an empty seat. "You are aware of Admiral Scott's work that was published in the 'Federation Engineering Annual' on stardate 2285.221."

"Yes. Your uncle postulated that warp factor 12 could be achievable in the coming decade."

T'Alora tipped her head. "Correct. I wrote to him one week after the article was published; unfortunately, he can become very engrossed in his work and single-minded to the point where he ignores all but his most basic needs. Once, after the _Enterprise _returned to Terra for an extended overhaul, he lost 63 days of time and believed it to be the middle of August when instead it was early October."

She was not certain but thought she saw the corners of his mouth tick upward. "This is a trait I believe you have also 'inherited', although not to such an extreme degree."

Veren did not know her uncle personally; then again, as T'Alora reflected on her behavior over the last 11.6 months, perhaps her commanding officer had drawn an accurate conclusion…but she digressed. "Two days ago I received a reply to my missive and this evening was presented with a data packet containing his theories and notes upon the subject." His eyes widened as she presented him with her PADD. "I wished to share this information with you. I have not had time enough to delve into all of it, however, what I have read so far has proven most fascinating."

"Indeed." Were he not Vulcan she would have thought he grabbed her PADD up most eagerly. He scanned the page more quickly than she could and he appeared to absorb the information like a sponge plunged in water. When next he looked up she noted how his irises twinkled in the light. "The power Admiral Scott proposes for the new warp core is not yet sustainable. The power grid would overload within 7.8 minutes of being activated, assuming the vessel held warp 12 for that period of time."

T'Alora drew her chair closer alongside him to better examine her uncle's notes and schematics. "Yes," she concluded, "The power grid is one of several smaller problems he has had to contend with in support of his theory."

"The power grid is no small problem, T'Alora," he replied. "The ship is capable of exploding should it overload."

"Agreed. I have been considering alternative solutions yet each one I have thought to contribute brings forth a new problem."

"Perhaps by working together we may be able to alleviate the burden of some of your uncle's work—if that would not be disagreeable to either you or the Admiral."

Her eyebrow drew upward again in surprise. This was not the outcome she had expected when she summoned him to the Mess after shift; she only wanted to share Uncle Scotty's work with Veren since he was so interested in it, yet the prospect of unraveling the engineering enigma intrigued her greatly. Before the evening concluded T'Alora and Veren agreed to dedicate one night a week solely to working on the warp factor 12 puzzle.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2286.279, 1835 hours.** The last 6 months had been spent diligently attending to their duties while alternately meeting socially and to discuss the possibilities and ramifications of achieving warp factor 12. They had solved the problem of the power grid within 7 weeks of receiving her uncle's work and, with his approval, continued to try and discover solutions to other issues plaguing the project, such as how to best reinforce the magnetic runabouts and what the proper placement for Brussard collectors on such a starship would be.

This evening Veren was 5.1 minutes late for their appointment and T'Alora thought it most curious that he would not inform her of his tardiness. She had not seen him all day but that in itself was not strange as he was not on the duty roster. If he did not appear soon she would return to her quarters and speak with him tomorrow morning about re-scheduling their missed time together.

* * *

><p>* khav-kur = Vulkhansu, brown<p> 


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N:** Just fair warning that this chapter is going to get a little M-rated—not smutty, but definitely not PG-13 either. The adult themes will continue over to the next chapter as well. If you don't want to read the M-rated section stop when you get to 1105 hours.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Confessions<strong>

_**Engineering Bay, T'Kara Mol, **_**2286.280, 0901 hours.** Veren had not reported for duty for the second straight day. T'Alora checked the duty roster again, certain that he had been scheduled for today's alpha shift as of 1940 hours yesterday evening, but his name was nowhere to be found and he was no longer scheduled for any future rotations.

_Curious_.

She attempted to reach Veren via personal comm but he did not answer. After leaving a message for him to contact her as expediently as possible she returned to her work.

* * *

><p><strong>1052 hours.<strong> Orders came down from Captain Evanna that they were to return to New Vulcan immediately and at maximum warp. No explanation was given for the alteration in plans and while the rest of her colleagues were content to blindly follow instructions T'Alora was not. She left Engineering and attempted to seek an audience with the Captain but was told once she reached the Bridge that Captain Evanna was unavailable. As she made her way back to the Bay, T'Alora passed the Medical Suite and stopped to inquire of Healer Ketrick whether or not Lieutenant Commander Veren was ill.

"I have done all I can to assist him. He has refused alternative treatment," the Healer cryptically replied before dismissing her and returning to his work.

His answer was also unsatisfactory and T'Alora frowned as she walked out the door and down the corridor. Too many facts were coming to light that individually did not make sense. The Lieutenant Commander was not at his post, the Captain was ordering an emergency return to New Vulcan, and the Healer was unwilling to confirm whether or not a crewmember was ill. She found the situation highly suspicious.

She was 2.1 meters from Engineering when she recalled an old conversation she had had with Veren.

_"You have previously stated that you were raised in New Gol. Were you born there?"_

_ "No," he replied, "I was born in Shi'Khar on 2255.219."_

That meant that the Lieutenant Commander was 31.16 years of age—full young but not unheard of to be experiencing the Fires. The terrible truth began to dawn on T'Alora and her stomach twisted itself in knots…so much so that she gasped aloud from the shock and pain. If her suspicions were confirmed then the situation was dire. Given his age Veren would be unable to successfully meditate through the plak'tow and yet they were too far from New Vulcan space to reach the planet in time to aid him; he needed help _now_.

_He has refused alternative treatment_. That meant that Veren had refused to take a crew member for his mate. Why was he allowing himself to die? The thought of his death grieved her so much that tears pricked at her eyes. He was her colleague and friend, he was…

T'Alora sucked in a breath as the revelation washed over her. Veren was much more than a friend and yet precisely when she had fallen in love with him she could not recall. The transformation had come about so gradually as to escape her notice but there was no denying how deeply she cared for him. She _loved_ him. If he died then she would lose a great piece of herself along with him.

She had to save him.

The decision now made for her, T'Alora made an abrupt turnaround and sprinted to her quarters. Time was of the essence if she wanted to save his life.

* * *

><p><strong>1105 hours.<strong> Standing in nothing but a simple, ankle-length, gray traveling robe, T'Alora trembled before Veren's door. She was prepared to do everything in her power to save him yet standing in the face of the unknown her humanity would not be denied and she could not suppress her growing fear. With a shaky hand she pressed the chime.

Nothing. 39.8 seconds passed in utter silence. She tried the chime again, this time allowing a full 72.5 seconds to elapse, yet Veren still did not answer. Pulling the control panel open, T'Alora spent 1.9 minutes overriding the lock. The door slid back and she stepped inside, allowing it to shut tight behind her before he had a chance to react.

The light was low and as her eyes adjusted to the dark she discovered Veren seated on the floor beneath the viewport, clad in nothing but dark lounge pants as he meditated over his asenoi. His broad shoulders and the muscles of his back rippled under a light sheen of sweat yet he sat stock still, not even daring to breathe.

"Leave. Now," he growled out.

That he was attempting to order her away under such adverse circumstances only steadied her resolve. "No."

"You have much trouble following direct orders," he said with a derisive snort. Finally he inhaled, deep and long, and she watched his backside tremble. She shook with him and the imposing image he presented. "I am not in my right mind. You must leave."

T'Alora set aside her fear and squared her shoulders in the face of his obstinacy. "I am fully aware of the situation and have come to assist you."

"I do not want you _like this_," Veren spat back disdainfully.

His rejection stung and her breath hitched in her throat. Was it always to be thus with her and men? She took several small breaths to bring herself back under control and remind her of the task at hand. "Then you will forfeit your life on the 3.03% chance we will arrive at New Vulcan before you are lost? Even when I am able and willing to save your life right now?"

His shoulders heaved and she noted his breathing was labored. "Yes."

"I do not accept that."

"WHY NOT?!" He flung the asenoi to the side and it shattered against the wall. In one swift motion he was up on his feet facing her. "You do not know what you are offering, what you are so freely giving away!" Veren lowered his eyes and cast his gaze toward the opposite wall. "I am dangerous, T'Alora. It is not safe for you, you must leave."

"I cannot." She was being equally stubborn and she knew it yet she refused to back down; instead she teased the zipper of her robe down past her collarbone with shaking hands, allowing it to slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet to reveal her naked body. "If you do not desire me," she said softly, "Or if you believe that we would be incompatible mates, then tell me now. I will withdraw my offer, leave, and we will never speak of this again." Veren made no move and she believed him to be lost. She began to retrieve her cloak. "Very well. You…"

He was on her in an instant, cutting her off by forcibly pressing his lips to hers in a kiss. Pushing her back against the wall he pinned her there and lifted her leg up over his hip. His lok strained against his pants and pressed into her belly as the sparse tufts of hair on his chest tickled her breasts. T'Alora was overcome with the sheer _feel_ of him upon her as well as his abundant arousal and she openly smiled into his mouth. Veren repeatedly pressed her with hot, greedy kisses and as his fingers moved down past her waist only then did she regain her voice and emit a heady moan.

He ran his free hand up the back of her neck and tore her hair loose from the elastic, only to grab a fistful of locks and yank her back so she would be forced to meet his gaze. Surprisingly, his display of strength turned her on even more and now she was only shaking with desire. They stared at each other for what seemed like an age until she thought she could see the very fires of the plak'tow burning in his blue-green eyes.

"I…I…" She wrapped her arms around him, caressing his backside, and Veren released his hold. He broke down as he seemed to recall himself. "T'Alora, forgive me. This was not how I wanted to proceed, I…." How he wanted to proceed? Her puzzlement must have shown because he knelt down and buried his face in her abdomen in complete supplication. "Oh, Ha'ge-t'nash-veh*, if you only knew…"

In that instant T'Alora thought that the madness that preceded death had already taken hold and in spite of herself two tears fell. Veren reached up and placed a finger before her lips, attempting to silence her sobs. "No, no, do not…" his voice trailed off again as she reined in her tears. "My thinking…is disjointed…forgive me…"

"Veren…"

"Do you believe in shan'hal'lak*?"

The question was most unexpected and she started. The idea was not completely foreign to T'Alora; indeed, she believed herself to be more familiar with the phenomenon than most Vulcans given her heritage and upbringing. Terran holo vids, literature and poetry were full of such moments, as well as pre-Surakian literature like Felmar. Looking up again the intensity of his gaze as she met his eye made her suddenly feel very small. "I do."

He stood back up, seizing upon her words. "Then I must tell you that I have loved you since the first moment I saw you."

T'Alora gasped. She had had no idea. "Since the evening the _Mahar'oth_ returned?"

"Before that…long before that." Veren rested his head on her shoulder and she cradled him to her. Glancing up at her he asked, "Do you truly not remember?"

She searched her memory but could not recall. "No."

He ducked back down and she felt him smile against her chest. "We first met on 2279.311. We were both in attendance at the Vulcan Science Academy. You were dressed in a most curious manner…" T'Alora gasped, her memory of that evening suddenly clear. That was the night that Casey was nearly assaulted on the campus grounds and that she herself had set out in Terran clothing to apprehend the attacker. She had succeeded. Veren continued. "I was auditing a class on the recommendation of Captain Evanna and had volunteered for the safety and security patrols. My colleague and I were the ones who pulled you off of the Romulan responsible for the assaults."

T'Alora's shock was even greater than before. "I had no knowledge that that was you."

"I know that now, Ha'ge. I…I…it was illogical, but I became…_captivated_ by your presence—your passion, your strength, your loyalty; even then when you were as undone as you were, even when I did not expect to see you again you…you had me enraptured."

Several seconds passed in silence before she began to hiccup and cry. She was so confused. "Then why…?"

"Why did I not speak of that evening until now? Why did I allow Marvox—" here Veren growled at the mention of his friend's name— "to court you? Why did I not attempt to court you myself? I had my reasons, logical reasons, T'Alora, but now I cannot…" He straightened up and pressed himself to her once more, kissing her deeply all the while.

"Veren…"

In another instant he whisked her away from the wall and ripped the sheets off his bed in one powerful tug. Very tenderly he laid her down upon the mattress and gazed lovingly up and down her body, never once relinquishing his hold of her hand or risk breaking the light telepathic connection they shared. His examination now concluded he lay down on top of her, continuing to kiss her. "I wanted to wait until you were ready," he murmured, "I wanted you to join with me willingly, I wanted to declare koon-ut so'lik* when I thought you would be more receptive to my overtures but my Time… Forgive me…"

Now she was well and truly shocked; Veren had wanted to bond with her long ago while free from the impediments of biological need. Carefully, she reached out and halted his kisses by cupping his face in her hands. He genuinely desired her—she could feel that much and more from their touch—and until today he had no knowledge of whether or not she reciprocated his sentiments. Veren had refrained from establishing anything more than a close friendship with her on the chance that she would reject him as she had Marvox; he had preferred to spend a lifetime beside her as t'hy'la* rather than risk losing her completely. This touched her to her very core.

"I accept," she replied. He tried to turn away, guilt furrowing his brow, and she saw in his thoughts how he felt he had trapped her. "I accept you, Veren, Pon Farr or no, but I cannot become your adun'a if you die." She kissed him, slowly, lovingly, feeling herself flush with heat as he responded once more.

Through the surface bond they shared she felt his awe and gratitude. "I am not worthy of one such as you…" His thoughts harkened back to her clan.

She mentally scowled. "_Yes_," she replied, "_Yes you are_." T'Alora took his free hand in her own and brought it up to her psi point.

"Are you certain?"

She traced the fine tip of his ear with nimble fingers. "Yes."

"Then I will initiate the bond." Veren closed his eyes as their minds reached for each other. "My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts…"

Brilliant red-orange color quickly seeped into T'Alora's consciousness. She instantly became privy to the intensity of Veren's struggle, especially over the last week as his symptoms became more pronounced and he attempted to hide them. He was uncertain how to react when it came to her regard toward him and when she presented herself this morning Veren was overjoyed but did not want to accept her if she only offered herself out of pity.

_"No," _she whispered against his thoughts. _"I do not pity you."_

In turn, T'Alora displayed her ever-present fear: that her Vulcan demeanor was flawed and that her humanity would one day usurp her careful control. Every strong feeling she had she was quick to suppress and she bound herself so tightly for so many years that she almost denied herself the opportunity to feel something as wonderful as unconditional love. With him it all began so innocuously that she had not even been aware of how deeply she came to love him until she discovered his life was in danger. _"I did not allow myself to feel these things until I learned that I might lose you," _she admitted across the bond, _"Then I found I could not envision a future without you."_

_ "Nor I without you."_

Slowly he began to withdraw from the meld yet a piece of him remained; it felt so natural, so right, that T'Alora smiled and sighed contentedly. As she opened her eyes she was surprised to see Veren smile back and she traced her thumb around the curve of his mouth even as he began to let it drop. "Do not, Ashayam," she urged as he let the expression fall. "Do not. This shall be reserved only for me."

"Ashayam," he repeated, his smile broadening. He kissed her again with an ardor which she fervently returned and as their passion grew she clung to him tighter, digging her nails into his back. Veren growled low and deep as he pressed his body more forcefully against her. "T'Alora…"

"Understood." She eased up on her grip, more mindful of his compromised state. His control was not as finite as it once was and they each desired to proceed carefully while they could. Slowly, Veren brought his head lower and began to nuzzle her chest. She thought she heard him purr.

Prior to this moment T'Alora had felt intense trepidation at the prospect of sexual intercourse—not only because of the emotional ramifications of such an act but because of the physical ones too. Illogical though it was she feared she would be an inadequate and unappealing partner.

Before she could dwell on these beliefs further Veren took one nipple into his mouth, causing her to arch up and grind her sex against him and lose all coherent thought. She felt as if her whole body were on fire and his foreplay only fueled the burn. Grinding her hips once more toward his pelvis she unabashedly stained his pants with her wetness.

_"Patience, Ha'ge-t'nash-veh,_" she heard his voice inside her head, "_All in good time."_

She nodded and tried to relax, her hands coming to rest on his ears as he traveled lower toward her abdomen. Veren did not need to coax her much to spread her legs and soon she felt him press his nose to her sex, inhaling deep. T'Alora felt her bones turn to liquid and she closed her eyes and sighed…

…until she felt his tongue dart between her lips.

Head bolting upright she pulled his face away and he stared up at her in astonishment. "What are you doing?"

"'I drink the finest ambrosia because it is you who giveth,'" he calmly replied, quoting Felmar. Still sensing her confusion Veren explained, "I was attempting to pleasure you. If you do not find this activity enjoyable then there are other ways…"

"I have insufficient data to make such a determination." Still stunned she remained in that attitude a moment longer before sinking her head back onto the pillow. As she ran her fingers through his hair T'Alora gazed down at Veren and considered their respective positions. If he wanted to pleasure her who was she to stop him? If it was not pleasing they need not do it again. "Proceed."

Veren began anew, his tongue lapping at her lips. Her heart fluttered wildly in her side and her eyes rolled back in her head until she soon began pressing her sex up to his mouth. Without warning she lost complete control of her body as it rippled and spasmed in wave after wave of bliss.

He pressed small kisses from her abdomen back up to her face as she slowly recovered. Veren saw her awed expression and the calculating look in her eye and asked, "And what have you discovered from our endeavors thus far?"

"I have determined that the works of Felmar must be revisited. Frequently," she replied dreamily. A strange, bark-like chuckle emanated from the back of his throat.

Removing himself from the bed Veren stripped off his black pants and let them pool at his ankles; it was then that T'Alora got her first true look at his physique. He was approximately 1.4 times larger than she had originally estimated. Veren was a large man even by Vulcan standards and though she was far from petite herself T'Alora did not think she could reasonably accommodate him.

"We will proceed slowly," he reassured her. "I will not hurt you unduly."

It was not his encouragement but the look of tenderness in his eyes that steadied her nerves. Taking himself in hand he guided his lok to her entrance. Initial proddings were hesitant and awkward for them both but they soon found their rhythm and shortly thereafter T'Alora drove her pelvis up to meet Veren thrust for thrust. Though their lovemaking was frenzied and hot given his need her sa-sugalsu* was as gentle as he had promised.

And in the midst of it all T'Alora realized they still had nearly a week of Pon Farr ahead of them.

Veren increased his pace until he gasped and stilled. A moment later he withdrew and collapsed beside her, drawing her deeper into his embrace. T'Alora knew a child was impossible at this juncture and yet she could not help envisioning her future self with an infant on her hip, one that greatly resembled Veren…

"Impossible?" he whispered, his breath hot upon her cheek.

Her cheeks flushed at being found out. "For secondary health reasons I have taken regular birth control boosters since the beginning of my career at the Academy. My most recent shot was administered 2.3 weeks ago; it's efficacy…"

Her lover cut her off, fully comprehending her meaning. "Understood." Veren leaned over and pressed a reverential kiss on her forehead. "In the future we will plan better."

A rush of mixed emotions flooded her at his affirmation. "A viable pregnancy may not be possible. I am ¾ human…"

"And your sa-mekh is ½ human, yet you and your sa-kais still exist. Biological children may also be possible for us." She remained silent for several long, tense seconds, still dwelling on the negative possibilities. "T'Alora." She looked over at him and all she could see and feel radiating off his person was love. "You are my k'hat'n'dlawa*; whether we are able to have 10 children or none I will have no other but you in this life. You are the one that I want."

Fresh moisture pooled in her eyes. Veren kissed her again, this time full on the lips, and it quickly deepened until she felt him grow half-hard and press against her leg.

Suddenly he pulled back. "We must stop," he urged breathlessly. "We should rest while we can."

With a nod she turned on her side and settled herself against his chest, his arm draped over her protectively. Her breathing evened out and settled in sync with his and both soon succumbed to exhaustion.

* * *

><p>* Ha'ge-t'nash-veh = Vulkhansu, my light<p>

* shan'hal'lak = Vulkhansu, love at first sight

* koon-ut-so'lik = Vulkhansu, marriage proposal

* t'hy'la = Vulkhansu, friend

* sa-sugalsu = Vulkhansu, fiancé

* k'hat'n'dlawa = Vulkhansu, half of my heart and soul


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N:** Posting early because I am _dog tired_. This is another adult-themed chapter so consider yourselves warned. Chapter 49 will return to our usual rating.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Claim<strong>

_**Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol, **_**2286.280, 1528 hours. **They slept for 3.92 hours; T'Alora would have remained in that attitude longer had she not been awakened by a rather loud and unusual growl. Blinking awake slowly she saw Veren standing naked in the middle of the floor of his quarters, the decorative ahn'vahr* that had previously hung on his wall in his hands. Looking toward the door she saw Junior Healer Yarel standing inside bearing a tray of hyposprays. Checking the bond, T'Alora discovered her sa-sugalsu was much further gone in his fever than he had previously let on. Cautiously she sat up and let her legs dangle off the edge of the bed, hoping to intervene yet unexpectedly drawing the Junior Healer's gaze.

"MINE!" Veren reached out and in one fluid movement yanked her out of bed, making her stumble as he drew her protectively behind him. His concern touched her yet she also worried for the other young man standing in the room. The Junior Healer was too stunned to speak, let alone move to the relative safety of the hallway, and T'Alora did not know how to proceed. Veren menacingly brandished the ahn'vahr and took another step toward his 'competitor'. "SHE IS _MINE_!"

Her lover was close enough now to reach out and stab Yarel through the heart. "Leave us!" she cried as she jumped on Veren's back. Yarel dropped his tray and fled the room, initiating the necessary medical overrides on the outside panel so that they would be locked in for the duration.

Even with her hanging onto him her sa-sugalsu still tried to give chase. He slashed at the door, leaving deep grooves in the metal, then dropped the ahn'vahr and clawed at the barrier with his bare hands. T'Alora realized that if he continued in this manner Veren would severely injure himself before he tired; however, she did not know how to redirect his energy.

Then she saw the bare, unmarked skin of his shoulder and instinct took over. She sank her teeth deep into his flesh until she tasted the tang of copper in her mouth. Veren roared like a beast and in the next instant T'Alora was flat on her back on the floor, her k'hat'n'dlawa towering over her, his eyes moving from her face to her sweet center which was growing wetter by the second.

This time there was no foreplay, no reassurances. He lowered himself down and entered her in one hard, swift movement.

"MINE!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Persaonal Quarters, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2286.285, 1438 hours. **T'Alora had lost all sense of time. Pon Farr had not played out as she had envisioned and she now understood Veren's earlier warnings. He was indeed rough in his need and use of her and try though she might T'Alora had been unable to slake his thirst. This time, however, as she returned to consciousness it was not due to his lusty proddings; she awoke to find him draping cool, clean bed sheets over her body.

"Rest," he ordered.

She grabbed his wrist and held him fast before he could walk away. Examining their bond she felt the burning of the last several days recede. "You are well?"

"I am…returning to myself." He looked aggrieved and tried to extricate himself from her grip. T'Alora was about to inquire as to what was meant by that small gesture when she caught a flash of his thoughts. He remembered a great deal of his time in Pon Farr: their fevered couplings on the floor and the desk, against the cabinets, over the chair and on the bed. He had not been gentle and was ashamed of his treatment of her; his torment was renewed every time he spied the marks on her body.

Without a word T'Alora rose from the bed, ignoring the ache of tired muscles, and tugged him along toward the bathroom. The bright lights made him flinch almost as much as her reflection in the mirror. Roughly, T'Alora pointed to the nail marks, teeth marks and bruises dotted along his much fairer complexion; however, this examination only fed his depression. She hastened to reassure him. "As my mother often stated when she returned home from away missions with physical damage, 'I gave as good as I got'."

Veren pointed at her looking very grave. "You are injured despite my promise that I would not harm you."

"A vow you could not reasonably be expected to keep in your compromised state."

He scowled at her attempt to out-logic him. "You are too precious to be treated thusly."

T'Alora stared back at him quizzically through the glass. "And you are not?" His ensuing silence spoke volumes. As Veren turned to walk away she wrapped her arms about his waist and pressed a kiss into the shoulder she had bitten. "You are important to _me_, Ashayam," she said quietly, "And I will not have you thinking otherwise. These marks are superficial but my…"—here she struggled with saying the word out loud—"…feelings for you are not. Do not push me away. I harbor no ill-will toward the activities we engaged in nor how we engaged in them."

He remained still as stone in her arms as he considered her remarks before finally reciprocating her embrace. Kissing the crown of her head he replied, "As always, Ha'ge, you wisely see the truth. Now come," he took her hand and tugged her along toward the main room, "You are still in need of rest."

Tenderly she stroked the side of his face. "I will return to our bed on one condition."

"And what is your condition?"

"That you also join me."

His eyes twinkled and the corners of his mouth ticked upward. "I am willing to accommodate your request."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2286.285, 2010 hours. **Healer Ketrick carefully examined them both and determined that they were none the worse for wear, concluding that they would be able to return to active duty in 36 hours time. Now that the danger was passed T'Alora preferred to lay relaxed in her lover's arms rather than return to her own quarters and she used her time to unravel the mystery of their unusual courtship.

"You said you would explain," she declared as they both stared up at the ceiling, his hand held fast in her own, "Why you allowed Marvox to take precedence over you."

"Yes." For 2.9 minutes they lay there without Veren saying a word. At long last he started, "T'Alora, you are familiar with the ion storm that overtook the _Mahar'oth _near the end of her mission, correct?"

"Yes," she said, "Initially I believed the ship to be lost to space and grieved for those aboard."

He swept aside a few errant hairs on the side of her head. "Clearly that was not the case, for if it were I would not be here with you." Veren kissed the side of her head before proceeding. "I was acquainted with Marvox prior to my deployment aboard the _Mahar'oth_; we were friends and my posting was to be a temporary assignment as Captain Evanna recruited me specifically for the _T'Kara Mol_. When the ion storm struck, given the systems that were effected, the crew and I initially believed that all was lost and that we would be condemned to drift in space and die. At the last moment I was tasked with boosting the communication signal, thereby increasing the odds that our message would reach New Vulcan and we would be rescued."

T'Alora watched Veren closely, noting the combination of gratitude and regret in his features. She deduced that there was even more to his and Marvox's relationship than met the eye. "The odds that Headquarters would detect our message were 12,342:1 and yet Marvox captured our signal and helped secure a ship that aided our transport home." She recalled the instant the gangway of the _Mahar'oth_ fell, revealing the crew, and the moment she first took in Veren's image. "From that time on I was forever indebted to him for having saved my life."

Veren ran a hand up and down the naked flesh of her hip, causing her nerves to tingle while she caressed his leg with her foot. She understood that he was attempting to distract her yet she refused to take the bait. "How then did Marvox become interested in me when I did not know him previously?"

The green blush tinting his cheeks was most endearing and T'Alora smiled in spite of herself. "I am to blame. I could not help but boast of you and your accomplishments once we began working together," Veren replied. "After the _T'Kara Mol_ launched I was determined to seek you out socially and as Marvox was accompanying me and had heard me speak of you he desired to meet you as well. Shortly after your first meeting I noted his interest in you and I knew that I could not intervene."

Neither of them spoke for several long moments and T'Alora took the opportunity to decide whether Veren was in the right or in the wrong for allowing Marvox to 'court' her unchallenged. "T'Alora," Veren continued, hoping to tip the balance "I owed Marvox _my life. _Once I discerned his interest in you I allowed him to proceed unimpeded with the understanding that—should you choose to accept him—you would be content together."

"But you discovered shortly thereafter that that was not the case."

"Yes," he said, the corners of his mouth ticking upward in a small smile, "Much to my benefit, but prior to that time I was acting in service of a friend to whom I owed a life debt."

"I believe I understand." T'Alora craned her neck up and kissed him soundly to illustrate her point. Shifting closer to him on the mattress she nuzzled her head against his chest and Veren wrapped her up in his arms. Oh! If only she could stay in this moment with him forever. But tomorrow would come and they were—quite literally—duty bound to face the day.

Meanwhile she would continue to luxuriate in the feel of his hand stroking her hair while she could.

* * *

><p>Reluctant as she was to do so, T'Alora rose from Veren's bed and returned to her quarters to shower and dress, knowing that he was doing the same and would join her in her quarters. There was an important call they needed to make.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2286.286, 0029 hours.** Presently she stood before him and needlessly smoothed out the front of his shirt. "Are you certain you wish to do this now, Ha'ge? Can we not contact them in a few days' time when we are both more recovered?"

T'Alora shook her head. "No, it must be today. They will have both returned home by now and information such as ours cannot wait. If we delay then when they do learn the news my mother will be most displeased." Her heart raced as she began to anticipate the reception she would likely receive from her parents. Veren did his best to ease her anxiety across the bond while pressing his middle and forefingers to hers in a Vulcan kiss. Her resolve now strengthened, she sat down before the comm and angled the screen so that her sa-sugalsu was not immediately seen. "I wish to speak with them first," she replied to his unspoken question.

"Understood."

She dialed the number and did her best to compose herself. Her mother answered after the third chime. "T'Alora! I'm so glad you called, I was getting worried about you! I tried to reach you the other day but the line just rang and rang." Mama squinted her eyes and peered at her, frowning all the while. "Have you been under attack? You look a little beat up." She felt Veren wince upon hearing that, although the dermal regenerator had done much to erase the majority of their bruises. "Is that why we couldn't reach you?"

"Mama, there is something I wish to tell you and sa-mekh. Is he available?"

Her mother cocked her head to the side in an uncanny imitation. "Of course. Just one second." She turned in the direction of the living room. "Spock! T's on the line! She says she has something she wants to tell us!"

"_T_?" Veren asked.

"_It is a nickname—a diminutive form of my given name—used by family and close friends to denote fondness and affection_."

"_I see_," he replied. "_Although I believe I prefer Ha'ge_."

She very nearly reached out to press her fingers to his. "_As do I_."

Meanwhile Mama turned her attention back to the screen. "He's coming. Oh, I bet I know what your news is! You're being published again, aren't you?"

Before she could refute the claim Sa-mekh entered the room still dressed in his instructor's uniform. Were he not her sa-mekh she would think he looked quite imposing. "T'Alora is to be published again? In what journal will your work appear?"

"I am not being published." She took a steadying breath. "You have each heard me speak of Lieutenant Commander Veren before, correct?"

Mama laughed. "Have we heard you speak of Lieutenant Commander Veren before? Only every other conversation, Sweetheart…"

"_You spoke of me to your parents?_" he asked. "_And with great frequency?_"

His amusement irked her and she felt the tips of her ears burn hot. "_I spoke of you no more than I spoke of my other friends or colleagues._" She could practically feel him scolding her with his eyes at the outright lie. Cowed, she replied, "_Of course, I may be mistaken in my recollection as to the exact number of times your name was referenced in conversation_."

"T'Alora?" Sa-mekh called, re-directing her attention.

"My reasons for this call are to inform you…" her gaze darted back and forth between her parents. "To inform you that Veren and I are..."

"Dating?" Mama supplied.

"Bonded." T'Alora adjusted the screen so that they were now both in full view of her parents. Mama's mouth hung open while Sa-mekh's eyes went wide.

"Na'shaya, dorli Osu Spokh eh T'sai Nyota," he declared in High Vulcan. "Nash-veh kup Tra-lan K'net I'nari Veren.*

"Na'shaya," they simultaneously replied. The realization appeared to have fully struck Mama as she suddenly sprang into action, crying out, "Umeolewa*?!"

"Ni dhamana ya uchumba tu," she reassured her. "Sisi si rasmi dhamana mpaka tutakaporudi New Vulcan.*" In the back of her mind Veren examined their side conversation with great interest. "_This language is Swahili? And you are fluent in it? This is most fascinating…_"

"Jinsi gani hii kutokea?" Mama continued. "Wakati?! Kwa nini?!*"

T'Alora bowed her head. "Illivyotokea 6.9 siku iliyopita. Yeye alikuwa katika haja*." She looked up at her parents and focused on Sa-mekh who had not yet said a word.

* * *

><p>Spock spent 2.83 minutes staring at the screen in total silence while his adun'a ranted. Nyota had previously voiced her suspicions that some partiality existed between the pair but neither of them believed prior to this comm call that they were on the verge of bonding. Looking at his ko-fu all he could see was her image when she was a newborn and how she grasped his finger in her tiny fist. When he was able he looked away from T'Alora and attempted to size up her sa-sugalsu.<p>

Logically he understood the reasoning behind their hasty betrothal but he also knew his ko-fu: much like her mother she would do everything in her power to assist anyone under duress, even give of herself in this manner. Now that the danger was passed he wondered what the Lieutenant Commander's intentions were toward T'Alora. If they were not honorable he would exercise his right as her sa-mekh to have the bond annulled.

"Has your clan been informed of the match?" he asked.

"No, Osu Spock."

That was curious; generally the male's clan was informed first so they would know how he survived the Fires. The dark, ugly thought flared up that this young man was ashamed of T'Alora. "Why have you not contacted them?"

"My parents are deceased," the Lieutenant Commander replied. "There are no other surviving clan members to be informed."

Spock took a deep breath and released his anger; he too knew the pain of loss and what it was to be alone in the world. But would his ko-fu bond with a man not only to save his life but to spare him from a future full of loneliness?

"_Spock_." Nyota was as conflicted as he but something in the young man's posture altered her attitude. Turning his attention back to the screen he noted the cant of Veren's head and the crinkling of the corners of his eyes as he gazed upon T'Alora. "_Look at them. I know I have my misgivings but the way he looks at her…it's the same way you look at me_." His k'diwa was correct; the mannerism was one he employed with her very often. Seeing this image reflected back upon him Spock had no choice but to conclude that while their bonding was sudden, T'Alora and Veren's joining was a ashaya-shif*.

He held up his hand in the ta'al and T'Alora's eyes lit up. "Na'shaya tor maat S'chn T'gai, Veren. Dif tor heh smusa*."

The high ridges of the young man's cheekbones came into stark relief as he sucked in a breath but otherwise did not move. Slowly he held up his hand to return the gesture. "Nash-veh kup dorlima. Sochya e dif…Sa-mekh Spokh.*"

* * *

><p>* ahn'vahr = Vulkhansu, type of double-edged sword<p>

* "Na'shaya, dorli Osu Spokh eh T'sai Nyota. Nash-veh kup Tra-lan K'net I'nari Veren" = Vulkhansu, "Greetings, honorable Sir Spock and Lady Nyota. I am Lieutenant Commander K'net I'nari Veren."

* "Umeolewa?!" = Swahili, "You're married?!"

* "Ni dhamana ya uchumba tu. Sisi si rasmi dhamana mpaka tutakaporudi New Vulcan." = Swahili, "It is only a betrothal bond. We will not formally bond until we return to New Vulcan."

* "Jinsi gani hii kutokea? Wakati?! Kwa nini?!" = Swahili, "How did this happen? When?! Why?!"

* "Illivyotokea 6.9 siku iliyopita. Yeye alikuwa katika haja." = Swahili, "It happened 6.9 days ago. He was in need."

* ashaya-shif = Vulkhansu, love match

* "Na'shaya to maat S'chn T'gai, Veren. Dif tor heh smusa" = Vulkhansu, "Welcome to the S'chn T'gai clan, Veren. Live long and prosper."

* "Nash-veh kup dorlima. Sochya e dif…Sa-mekh Spokh" = Vulkhansu, "I am honored. Peace and long life…Father Spock."


	49. Chapter 49

**A Deeper Appreciation**

_**Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol, **_**2286.296, 2118 hours.** T'Alora folded her arms across her chest and paced the room berating her own stupidity.

The first 3.79 days after their confinement saw her and Veren each mired in their own work. As department head her sa-sugalsu was particularly busy and so she initially understood why he did not come to her quarters in the evening or summon her to his. It was still the practice of bonded Vulcans to keep separate sleeping quarters and as such there were no double billets on the _T'Kara Mol_; nevertheless, T'Alora anticipated spending some time alone with him now that his Time had passed. However, 10.88 days had passed and the only time she saw him was when they were in the performance of their duties or partaking of meals with their colleagues.

The door chime rang, interrupting her thoughts. She slapped her hand down on the controls expecting a confrontation with her wayward intended only to be greeted by the sight of T'Melia, her eyebrow slowly rising upward. "I trust I am not interrupting anything?"

"No," T'Alora calmly replied. She stepped back to allow her friend to pass. "You are not."

T'Melia studied her closely. "Very well." She sat on the bed and folded her hands primly in her lap. "I have not had much opportunity to speak with you in the last 16.73 days. I am personally unfamiliar with—" her eyes darted from side-to-side, "certain events, however I have heard stories and wished to inquire after the state of your health."

"I am well."

"And it is true you are to be bonded?"

Were she full human and given the way she was currently feeling T'Alora would have responded with extreme sarcasm but she refrained. "Yes." She was still upset with him and her control was tenuous; she did not trust herself to say his name out loud. "The Lieutenant Commander and I are to be bonded at the conclusion of our mission."

T'Melia nodded. "Understood. Forgive me if I am overstepping the bounds of propriety once more but I see now that you were correct in rejecting Marvox. The Lieutenant Commander is a much better match for you."

"Thank you." The pair sat in silence for 36.3 seconds and T'Alora briefly glanced at the comm screen. There were no new messages waiting.

"T'Alora?"

"Yes?"

Her friend was on the verge of asking her question when she stopped herself short. "It is of no consequence. I will take my leave of you now."

She was never more grateful for her friend's tact then in that moment as she escorted her to the door and bid her good night. T'Alora was indeed very poor company this evening.

* * *

><p>Veren emerged from his bathroom barefoot and clad only in a pair of loose, dark navy trousers. As he pulled the gray tunic up over his head he once again consulted the bond with T'Alora. It was heavily tamped down, just as it had been all day. He could not account for it and had earlier resolved to discuss the matter with her as soon as he finished showering. As Veren slipped on his shoes the door chime rang and, thinking that perhaps T'Alora had come to him instead, he hastened to answer it.<p>

He quirked his head to the side. "Lieutenant T'Melia?"

"Yes." Recovering himself and remembering his manners he stepped aside so she could enter but she declined the invitation. "I have only come to deliver a message. I believe that Lieutenant T'Alora is in need of your assistance."

His assistance? One eyebrow rose of it's own accord. If T'Alora required him than why did she not come herself? He looked down at T'Melia and realized that the answers he sought lay with his ko-kugalsu. He would go see her directly. "Thank you."

T'Melia nodded and left while Veren took himself in the opposite direction.

* * *

><p>The chime rang out again and T'Alora rose from her seat. Instead of a visit from another colleague she looked up to see Veren filling her doorway. She did not move, forcing him to remain in the hall.<p>

His eyebrow went up as he scrutinized her features. "I was told that you were in need of my assistance."

If he could get along without her for the last 10.89 days than she could get along without him. "I am not."

Veren cocked his head to the side. "Very well. Since I am here may I suggest that we program the door controls so that I need not knock in the future?"

"That is unnecessary."

The other eyebrow rose to join the first. "Have you re-programmed them yourself?"

"I have not."

His expression did not waver but in his eyes she saw his confusion and hurt. _Good_.

This conversation was becoming increasingly baffling. Ordinarily T'Alora was straight-forward and logical; tonight she was anything but. "Perhaps if we could continue this discussion inside…"

"No." She was being deliberately obstinate and he could not fathom why. Her hand slid along the inside wall toward the control panel preparing to shut him out. "Good night, Lieutenant Commander." As T'Alora neared the button her shields dropped enough to let him see that she felt abandoned, hurt and betrayed by him for not having called upon her sooner. In light of his perceived inattention she doubted his commitment and the veracity and depth of his feelings for her (despite his previous words and actions to the contrary); and her past experiences—which she had only heretofore alluded to—were clouding her better judgment.

He sought to rectify her misapprehension immediately.

"T'Alora…"

"No, Veren!" The door started to shut and he caught it in his hand, forcing it to retract. He held the middle and forefingers of his free hand out to her in demand.

"She-who-will-be-my-wife," he commanded, "Attend."

T'Alora gasped but did not move, her righteous anger fueling her resolve. In frustration Veren reached out and took hold of her by the wrist escorting his ko-kugalsu to his quarters. Once there he placed her palm on the control pad and the door sprung open at her touch. "_My quarters have always been opened to you,_" he coolly informed her. Still clutching her wrist he brought T'Alora inside and pulled back the comforter, taking the loose sheets in his hand and drawing them up to her nose. He had been loathe to change them because her scent lingered on them even now.

Her shame burned across the bond.

"_I was initially preoccupied with work, however, once that had been managed I considered the rough treatment you endured during my Pon Farr and did not think it right to call upon you again so soon. I see now that I have been wrong,_" he admitted, partially vindicating her behavior, "_But so have you._"

T'Alora dropped her head and looked up at him through her long dark lashes. "Forgive me." The bond now opened more fully he caught snatches of her thoughts, specifically brief images of the events that made her insecure when it came to his regard for her. Veren was deeply curious to learn more but knew better than to pry, especially now when she was feeling so vulnerable. She would tell him in her own time.

Lifting her face he laid a soft kiss in the center of her forehead. "There is no offense where none is taken, Ha'ge. It was a misunderstanding." She leaned into him, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around his waist. For the first time in 10.9 days Veren felt himself grow more centered and relaxed.

* * *

><p>She felt like a fool and T'Alora was nobody's fool. Veren had left himself open and while she had expected him to come to her she never once considered going to him. It was apparent that they each had much to learn about being bonded and she quietly stated as much.<p>

"Yes," he replied. One hand snuck up her back and undid the tie that held up her hair, running his fingers through her long dark locks as they cascaded down her back. "It is, I believe, a benefit many derive from forming a bond when both partners are still young."

"Agreed." T'Alora snuggled up against his chest, the fabric soft and cool against her cheek. "Veren, I understand my own parent's reasoning, but why did you not undergo the koon-ut-la*?"

His hand stilled and he pulled away to properly look at her. "I did not undergo the koon-ut-la ritual because my sa-mekh did not take the opportunity to locate a partner for me. He was very involved in the rebuilding efforts, as all Vulcans were at that time, and many of our generation did not partake of this tradition." T'Alora detected the tinge of regret in his tone and held him closer. "Also, I…" he stopped short and she sensed that he was attempting to compose himself.

"T'Alora, you once asked me why my sa-mekh presented my ko-mekh with the works of Felmar prior to their bonding," Veren said. "It was because they cared for one another very deeply. After my ko-mekh passed my sa-mekh became a different man. I was not neglected but neither was I well looked after; as a direct result of these experiences I became self-sufficient long before I became a ward of the New Gol Orphanage."

She did not know how to respond, but she was pleased that he trusted her so much to speak with her so openly. Stretching up on tiptoe T'Alora placed a soft kiss on his lips; his eyelids grew heavy and fluttered at the contact and a strong burst of affection spilled forth across the bond. "_I am honored and pleased to now have the privilege of looking after you._" She meant every word.

* * *

><p>"<em>I am honored and pleased to now have the privilege of looking after you.<em>" There was no way for T'Alora to know how deeply her words effected him. Whenever she was near he felt light of heart simply gazing upon her. That she chose him went against all logic. He felt her reach for his hand and slip two fingers against his, strengthening the bond. "He-who-will-be-my-husband," she whispered, her sultry voice close against his ear, "Attend."

Veren shuddered and took a moment to control himself before being escorted away. "_Why is it that I follow your every command without hesitation yet you insist on defying all of mine?_"

She stopped in the middle of the hall and gazed up into his eyes. "_Because_."

Because was not an answer: because was a single, solitary conjunction, and yet Veren knew he would follow her all the way to the edge of the galaxy without further explanation if that was what she wanted.

T'Alora brought him directly to her quarters, stopping only to scan his hand in the control panel so that he may return whenever he desired. She then led him to the edge of her bed, bidding him sit down, where she began gently caressing his ears. Veren closed his eyes and leaned toward her as she tenderly stroked from the fine points down to the lobes; his breath quickened in response, his whole body craving more of her touch.

"Remove your shirt," she ordered. The speed with which this act was accomplished exceeded even his ability to calculate and quantify; meanwhile T'Alora continued her ministrations, dropping her hands down to his neck and shoulders where she began massaging his taut muscles. "Lie down on your stomach." Veren was only too ready to comply and with his face buried in her pillow he began to grow dizzy from her scent. He half-listened to T'Alora as she moved about the room; when she returned he felt her climb up on the bed and carefully straddle him before depositing a dollop of cool lotion on his back.

T'Alora massaged him for 33 minutes studying the planes of his body; she moved not with practiced ease but with compassion, making her ministrations all the sweeter. When she was through Veren drew her down beside him on the narrow bed and kissed her thoroughly as he cradled her in his arms. One day soon he would return the favor she just bestowed upon him. Neither spoke for a full 15.4 minutes as they languidly caressed each other, letting the bond between them blossom. Feeling safe and secure, and with her confidence bolstered, T'Alora began her tale.

"His name was David Merchant," she said softly. "The relationship began 6.93 years ago…"

His Ha'ge spared no details and her behavior, when presented in this new context, made much more sense. Veren did not offer her meaningless apologies on behalf of his sex; instead he wrapped her tighter in his arms and wordlessly wiped away the 3 small tears that dared fall to her cheeks as she recounted her mortification. He resolved that for as long as he lived he would do everything in his power never to let her feel that embarrassment or pain ever again.

* * *

><p>* koon-ut-la = Vulcan childhood bonding ritual<p> 


	50. Chapter 50

**Comm Call II**

_**Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol, **_**2286.308, 2351 hours.** After their initial misunderstanding T'Alora and Veren alternated evenings in each other's quarters; so eager were they for the other's company that they often encountered each other in the hall on their way to the other's rooms. This evening, however, T'Alora deferred her visit with Veren so that she might speak privately with her friends and inform them of her new relationship status.

As she prepared herself for the call she was surprised when the comm rang out 8.89 minutes early with Casey's address scrolling across the screen. "Greetings, Casey."

"Oh T," her friend exhaled in relief, "I'm so glad I caught you! I'm sorry to jump the gun like this but I wanted to talk to you before Poleia got on the line." Her anxiety was so manifestly apparent that T'Alora furrowed her brow and urged her onward to un-burden herself. "You know that Stalvek and I are eternally grateful to you and your family for everything you've done for us, right? Especially your grandfather?"

"Of course."

"I mean, the Ambassador helped Stalvek finish school, gave him his first job, helped him find this great apartment…not to mention all the great advice he gave when we were planning our bonding ceremony…"

"Casey," she declared, "Not that I am above listening to you extol the many virtures of my sa-mekh-al but is there a point to be made in this speech?"

Her friend cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair, tucking a few errant strands behind her ear. "There is, sorry, I…" she trailed off and reached for a cup of water that had previously been off-screen; her hand trembled as she picked up the glass. "I'm just so nervous that your family will be mad at me—mad at us—when I tell you. You've given us so much…"

T'Alora consulted her internal chronometer; Casey had better arrive at the matter at hand in the next 6.37 minutes as Poleia was always punctual in her calls. "Perhaps if you would inform me as to what has you so concerned I may help alleviate your fears."

"You're right." She took a deep breath and squirmed in her seat. "Stalvek got a job offer, a really _great _job offer…"

_Oh_. Now that all had been revealed T'Alora saw Casey's anxiety in a new light. Had Stalvek long been displeased with his position at the Embassy? She could see no other alternative that would induce him to leave such lucrative employment. "I was unaware that he was actively seeking new employment."

"He wasn't. Isn't! I meant isn't!" Her poor friend began to cry. "See, this is what I was worried about! You're upset…"

"I am not upset," T'Alora hastened to reassure her. "I am merely attempting to ascertain all of the facts. You said that Stalvek was not actively seeking new employment, therefore it now stands to reason that his potential new employers contacted him."

"Yeah," she admitted amidst a few sniffles. "They're mathematicians from Stanford; they've been trying to recruit him for awhile now but now that the department chair is retiring soon everything's changing. They say there's a more immediate need for an assistant professor with Stalvek's credentials. The salary is fair and they offered to help us find a place closer to campus _and _pay for moving expenses—but most importantly he'd be eligible for tenure in only 3 years! That's practically unheard of in academia, let alone Stanford!" Her excitement grew as she spoke and T'Alora could tell that her friends had given this opportunity a lot of thought; when she said as much to Casey she instantly sobered.

"We've talked about it some, yeah; I mean it's been Stalvek's dream to teach at the collegiate level since before entering the VSA. He always wanted to teach there but then we happened and everything fell apart. Now we just…" She stopped short and sighed again. "_IF_ he accepts the job we just don't want your family to think we're throwing all their generosity back in their faces. You know what you guys mean to me personally, and your friendship and support mean a lot to Stalvek too. Over the last 3 years he and the Ambassador have grown really close and with his parents having already written him off…" Her voice trailed off once more and Casey sat before the screen looking thoroughly disheartened. On this score at least she knew she could help set her friend at ease.

"Casey." Her friend perked up marginally. "I believe that I may safely speak for Sa-mekh-al when I say that he never intended for Stalvek to work for him indefinitely. I think…" Uncharacteristically T'Alora let her thought hang unfinished as she considered whether it was proper to speak of such things. One look at Casey, however, changed her mind.

"I think that when my sa-mekh-al first became apprised of your situation he was compelled to help. Your relationship and the public disapproval of his clan mirrored trials he experienced when courting and subsequently bonding with my ko-mekh-il. I believe that my sa-mekh-al saw that he had it in his power to ease the way for you both and it would have been illogical of him not to act as he had; with that said, I do not think that any member of my clan will harbor any ill will toward you or Stalvek as a result of his accepting this lucrative offer."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?!" she squealed, "You think so? Oh T, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that! I've been worried sick these last few days wondering what they'd think…"

"We want what is best for you and Stalvek and this is obviously what is best."

Her grin stretched from ear-to-ear. "I could literally kiss you right now!"

T'Alora raised one eyebrow and drolly replied, "I would not recommend that."

Casey threw her head back and cracked up. "T, you're killing me!" In the midst of her riotous laughter Poleia rang in T'Alora hastened to connect her.

"Good evening, T'Alora." Her brow furrowed in mild confusion. "Casey?"

Their human companion grinned. "Yep! Surprise! I'm _early_!"

Her brown eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "I am indeed taken aback by your punctuality but it is still most gratifying to see you."

"You too! How's the fam?"

T'Alora watched her friend give a small shake of the head at Casey's free use of colloquialisms. "Ferlan and I are in good health, as is the rest of the clan. How does your clan fare?"

"All good here. Stalvek and I just got some amazing news…" As she went on to outline Stalvek's new employment opportunity T'Alora took the time to study Poleia more closely. There was an alteration in her attitude that T'Alora could not place. Poleia's hair was pulled back in her customary braid, her expression was placid, her coloring was fair—and yet there was something in her friend's bearing suggesting a transformation had taken place.

"I wish you and your adun well in your new endeavor."

"Thanks."

Her curiosity must be sated. "Poleia…" T'Alora broke in.

Her friend interrupted her before she could ask anything further. "May I inquire as to the _T'Kara Mol_'_s_ current mission?"

She nodded. "Of course. Our ship is currently engaged in monitoring space in our segment of the Beta quadrant while we await new orders from Headquarters."

"Understood."

T'Alora tried again. "Po—…"

"So how goes the addition to the dome?" Casey inquired.

"The workers are making progress at the anticipated pace. It will be another 10.1 months until the project is completed. At that same time Ferlan and I will also welcome the arrival of our first ko-fu*."

T'Alora's face fell open a small degree while Casey screeched, "You're pregnant?!" Poleia nodded and blushed in the face of her friend's effusive response. "Oh P, that's wonderful news! Congratulations!"

She quickly agreed; the pregnancy also explained the infinitesimal roundness of Poleia's features and the extra shine in her eyes. "A new life for your clan is most worthy of celebration."

"Indeed. Thank you both."

Casey proceeded to babble on, her excitement over Poleia's impending arrival mounting with each passing minute, and T'Alora was content to let her hi-jack the conversation. She was so stunned by their respective revelations that the most she contributed to their talk was the occasional nod and affirmative word.

Suddenly the door behind her slid back and Veren attempted to enter her quarters as inconspicuously as possible; given his large stature and the diminutive size of the room he failed most miserably. Turning her attention briefly toward her sa-sugalsu he immediately began apologizing. "Forgive me for the intrusion. I know you requested privacy this evening but I am in need of a PADD which I left here yesterday. It contains the upcoming duty roster."

"Of course." She gestured toward the shelf where she had placed it moments earlier before turning back to Poleia and Casey.

"TeeeE!" Casey sing-songed. Veren's arrival apparently broke her from her earlier train of thought. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively while Poleia sat in the opposite screen patiently waiting.

"Poleia, Casey, this is Lieutenant Commander K'net I'nari Veren." T'Alora held her hand aloft, two fingers extended, and Veren tenderly returned her embrace. "My intended."

Her friend, who had been casually sipping from her water glass, proceeded to spit the beverage out all over the screen. "YOUR WHAT?!"

His affection and amusement flashed across the bond. "_This is your human colleague from the VSA, the one you speak of frequently, is it not?_"

The answer was obvious yet T'Alora was spared from saying anything further by Poleia. Her friend—who had been eying her sa-sugalsu with open suspicion for the last several seconds—said, "Vu gla-tor vesh'danik dorlian k'bar-ga el'ru, Veren*."

He nodded back at her, eyes brimming full of pleasure and pride. "Gla-tor nash-veh muhl d'thin es a dorli asa vahls fi'ma*."

Satisfied that Veren was worthy of her Poleia nodded and folded her hands over her abdomen. Having cleared the excess water from her screen Casey regarded them happily and offered her own congratulations, adding, "I really need to stop being surprised by Vulcan engagements." She then spent the remainder of her time on the line grilling the new couple on their wedding plans. T'Alora and Veren soon realized that they had decided on nothing except that they wanted to wait and formally bond once they returned to New Vulcan; her mother had also insisted on as much.

The call concluded, she and Veren silently went about their usual evening routines before preparing for bed. As he slipped under the coverlet and tucked in beside her T'Alora molded her body to accommodate her future adun. However, she lay awake with Veren's arm around her envisioning the myriad number of ways their bonding ceremony could proceed.

Following Vulcan tradition would mean a swift service with a paucity of observers; conversely, Human tradition would mean an elaborate service with an abundance of observers followed by an even more ornate reception afterward. Would she be able to tread a fine line between the two customs without offending anyone, least of all her sa-sugalsu?

"Yes," Veren whispered in her ear, "_we_ will." T'Alora cringed; she was not as circumspect as she thought she had been. "That is also true," he replied, "However, had you been more guarded I would have remained unaware as to what was keeping you awake so late this evening." With a gentle nudge from him she turned in bed so they were face-to-face. "With regards to our bonding ceremony I would be willing to embrace certain Terran traditions for your sake as well as for that of your clan."

She arched an eyebrow. "Truly?"

He looked back at her quizzically. "I do not understand your surprise at my willingness to compromise."

"Forgive me." She nuzzled his nose with hers and a low rumble emanated from his chest. "I am still growing accustomed to you; until you entered my life I was habituated to thinking and acting only for myself."

"I understand." Veren brushed his fingers lightly against the back of her shoulder. "I have made alterations in my daily living to accommodate you as well." He cradled the back of her head in his hand and placed a smoldering, lingering kiss to her lips. "What you must also remember, Ha'ge, is that we need not make any decisions regarding our bonding this evening. We will have the next 1.76 years to finalize our plans."

T'Alora shut her eyes and sent burst after burst of affection flowing to him across the bond. "I am most fortunate to be allying myself with such a wise man."

"I agree," he solemnly teased, sending his own amusement back to her. Veren traced the high line of her cheekbone with a finger, sweeping it up the pointed slope of her ear. "And I am most fortunate to be joining with such a wise woman; but now is the time for sleeping." With that she tucked her head against his chest, content, and soon found the rest that had eluded her.

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><p>* ko-fu = Vulkhansu, daughter<p>

* "Vu gla-tor vesh'danik dorlian k'bar-ga el'ru, Veren" = Vulkhansu, "You have been most honored with her hand, Veren."

* "Gla-tor nash-veh muhl d'thin es a dorli asa vahls fi'ma" = Vulkhansu, "I am well aware of the honor she bestows on me."


	51. Chapter 51

**Dima's Planet**

_**T'Kara Mol, In Orbit Around Dima's Planet, **_**2287.104, 1137 hours.** The bond between T'Alora and Veren grew stronger as time passed. Soon it became a given among the crew that if they were searching for one of the pair they would find them in the company of the other. No one denounced the match and although Marvox further shied away from their acquaintance the crew moved forward with life as usual.

Their current mission to Dima's Planet came as somewhat of a surprise. Dima was not a newly discovered world—rather the Andorians detected it in 2208—only little else had been noted about it since then as it was tucked away in an unfrequented quarter of the Alpha quadrant. The Vulcan Space Program, in it's infinite wisdom, decided to take the opportunity to investigate the world further and sent the _T'Kara Mol_ to satisfy their curiosity. The ship had been in orbit around Dima's Planet for 1.44 hours taking readings when Lieutenant Broc reported an equipment malfunction to engineering.

* * *

><p>He approached her in the Engineering Bay 23.1 minutes before her scheduled mid-day meal break. T'Alora was reviewing the warp core output readings with Lieutenant Guler when her sa-sugalsu interrupted them; with a nod of dismissal to Guler she gave Veren her full attention.<p>

"The landing party has requested a technician be sent down to repair the sensors for the dust monitoring equipment. As I know you are most familiar with the apparatus in question I have elected you to go down to the surface."

"Of course."

"I estimate that the repairs will take no more than 16.87 minutes of your time."

"I concur."

She turned to make her exit when Veren leaned in close, whispering, "I will eagerly await your return."

The corners of her mouth ticked upward and, very discreetly, T'Alora pressed two fingers to his. "Then I will return as swiftly as possible." She walked off to collect her tools with an extra bounce in her step.

* * *

><p>She materialized on the surface 4.3 minutes after receiving her orders. T'Alora did not move for 7.8 seconds as she acclimated herself to the cooler atmosphere and made careful observation of her surroundings. Dima's Planet was awash in various shades of blue and gray that were reminiscent of the stormy ocean waves off the San Francisco Bay.<p>

To her left was the camp her colleagues had erected earlier; it was currently abandoned as her peers engaged in the myriad scientific studies that had brought them planetside. Scanning the forest in the distance T'Alora located the blinking red beacon of the malfunctioning dust monitor approximately 310.6 meters Southeast of her current position. Adjusting the tool belt on her hips she set off without further delay, quite certain that she would finish and return to the ship in time to join Veren for the mid-day meal. All was quiet in her immediate vicinity save for the crunch of dry brush beneath her feet and she did not encounter a single crewmember as she walked, nor as she worked. T'Alora was so focused on completing her assignment that she did not know what the silence portended until it was too late.

* * *

><p><em><strong>T'Kara Mol, Engineering Bay, <strong>_**2287.104, 1159 hours. **Veren sat in his office reading the latest ship's systems reports when he felt a disturbance well up within his core. Setting the PADD aside he placed one hand over his abdomen and closed his eyes, focusing inward to determine the nature of his sudden affliction. There was a second jab of panic and 7.36 seconds later he concluded that the fear he felt was not his own.

"_HA'GE!_" T'Alora was too overcome to answer his mental cry. Instantly Veren was on his feet, communicator in hand, racing toward the transporter room; those in his way stepped aside in astonishment as he sped through the halls. Once ensconced in the turbolift he attempted to hail her. "T'Alora."

"Gggg…ggooll…zha…"

Her incoherent babbling further discomfited him and as the doors opened he heard her drop her device on the ground. Time was of the essence. He barged into the transporter room and nearly upset the composure of the two lieutenants in charge. "Beam me down to Lieutenant T'Alora's last known coordinates." Their split-second hesitation only served to raise his ire. "NOW!"

Re-materializing on the surface Veren quickly took stock of his surroundings. He stood in a cornflower blue field amidst the paraphernalia of the landing party's camp. There was not a single soul in sight. Scanning the horizon he saw a forest of gray and navy trees standing before a cerulean mountain located 310.6 meters away. The red beacon light of the dust monitor against the stark landscape grabbed his attention and Veren took off for it at a dead sprint.

"T'ALORA!" She did not answer his cries and as he neared the beacon he felt the tel* with his ko-kugalsu* weaken.

_NO!_

Eyes darting frantically over the area he detected a trail in the brush leading deeper into the forest. Adrenaline pumping he followed at a rapid pace until he detected T'Alora's gurgling in the midst of the silent woods. Veren emerged in a clearing at the mouth of a cave to see his k'diwa on the ground, her left side paralyzed while her right frantically clawed and kicked at the dirt. Around her lay 7 of the 8 members of the landing party completely immobile, quite possibly dead. "HA'GE!" A trail of dust kicked up in his wake as he slid in beside her and took her hand.

Her eyes went wide and she struggled to sit up. "Zha…zha…zha…" she repeatedly gasped.

"I do not understand." Looking down at her he noticed her right leg ceased to jerk. She squeezed his hand tighter, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Ora…ora…" her unknown plea trailed off as a series of rib-wracking coughs shook her frame. Never before had he felt so helpless.

"Lieutenant Commander Veren!"

He heard the cries of his crewmembers as they trampled through the forest to aid him but he paid no heed to their calls. Veren only had eyes for T'Alora.

"Help is on the way, k'diwa." He stroked the hair back from her face. Her hand lay still in his and she no longer spoke; her breaths now came in in short, raspy gasps. He attempted to cradle T'Alora in his lap but found that her body was as stiff as a rock. She winced at the jarring movement and a tear slid down her cheek as he carefully set her back down. Still clutching her hand Veren laid himself flat beside her.

"Ashaya nash-veh du. Ri nash-veh trasha du*." His heart clutched in his side as her mouth stopped moving. Distantly Veren was aware of his colleagues securing the scene and calling the ship to request additional medical assistance. T'Alora's eyes bulged out of her head and darted back and forth in sheer terror. As the mysterious paralysis took hold of her he knew he had to do everything in his power to keep her calm.

* * *

><p><strong>5.69 minutes earlier.<strong> T'Alora ventured further into the woods in search of a member of the landing party. When none immediately appeared she hailed Lieutenant Commander T'Landit to ascertain her whereabouts. The Lieutenant Commander did not respond but T'Alora heard the steady chirp of her communicator coming from 18.3 meters ahead. She was nearing the base of the mountain where the woods began to thin out when a low rustling noise to her right distracted her.

A small, globular, orange creature emerged from the bush and rolled toward her, coming to rest neatly at her feet. T'Alora peered down to examine it more closely; it resembled a hairless Tribble and possessed three short, blunted points—one atop it's 'head' and one on either side acting as 'arms'. The creature had no eyes, ears, nose or mouth that she could make out and was no more than 8 centimeters in size.

"Fascinating…" T'Alora reached out to touch the strange being but her scientific interest soon turned to fear as it swelled to much larger and more menacing proportions. The body elongated into a tube that towered ¼ of a meter over her head, it's blunted appendages also growing and flailing about in a defensive display. She began backing away slowly, hands held up in surrender, to avoid upsetting the creature further.

T'Alora did not retreat swiftly enough as the alien quickly jabbed her in the left side of her neck with great force. Stumbling backward she felt the sore spot and withdrew her hand to see a small amount of blood stain her palm. When she looked up next she saw that she was on the edge of the clearing at the base of the mountain, her missing colleagues laid out around her on the ground, unmoving. T'Alora whipped out her communicator and stared in disbelief as the attacking creature emerged; it appeared to study her for a moment before shrinking back to it's original size and rolling away.

The communicator hung limp at her side as she watched the alien move toward the entrance of a cave where another of it's kind waited. Together the orange creatures rose in stature and used their 'arms' to take hold of Lieutenant Commander T'Landit by her feet and haul her off into the rocky den.

Suddenly her left leg buckled and T'Alora crumpled to the ground. She looked to her left arm, now hanging uselessly at her side, and the top of her thigh which was also going numb. The communicator in her hand chirped and she flipped it open as she struggled to stand.

"T'Alora."

_Veren_. She sought the bond but it had grown noticeably weak. What type of paralytic had the alien injected her with that would affect her like this? Taken aback she nevertheless attempted to answer him. "Gggg…ggooll…zha…" The words faltered on the tip of her tongue and what little progress she had made in standing quickly evaporated as her entire left side went rigid. She collapsed again, dropping the communicator beside her.

There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do, and yet that did not stop her from acting. Veren would come for her—of that she was certain—but she would not sit idly by and wait. Craning her neck around she saw the two beings emerge from the cave without the Lieutenant Commander. Unconcerned by her presence they proceeded to cart Ensign Henner off in the same direction. Her shouts barely escaped her throat and did nothing to deter them.

Frantically T'Alora clawed at the dirt in a feeble attemp to reach him. She tried to push off with her heel but made it no more than 5.02 centimeters and that effort served only to alert her to the rapidly weakening state of her right leg.

"Kkroy…kkkk…kkkk…" The orange beings paid her no heed and continued to drag the ensign away.

More rustling sounds came from the woods and her eyes widened in fear of the approach of another creature when Veren burst out of the brush. She whipped her head around in time to see the aliens shrink to their smaller form and roll away unnoticed.

"HA'GE!" Veren slid into place beside her and held her hand, but even that contact did nothing to strengthen their failing bond. She had to warn him of the danger before he too ended up like the rest.

"Zha…zha…zha…" His confusion was evident even before he spoke. Gripping his hand she willed him to understand. Veren had to get away—who knew how many more of them were out there? T'Alora tried again. "Ora…ora…"

Just then the muscles in her chest seized and she was overcome by violent coughs. Her leg had gone stiff and now the hand that clutched at Veren was beginning to grow numb. She did not have much time left. The likelihood of her survival was…was…

She wanted to cry but the sobs would not escape her throat. Her heart hammered in her chest and she locked eyes with Veren. Her own mortality was only seconds away.

"Help is on the way, k'diwa," he said soothingly, stroking back her hair. He tried to hold her and she wanted nothing more than to be comforted by him but she was inflexible and the movement sent searing pain throughout her body. Setting her back down as gently as possible he laid down beside her and held her, whispering endearments in her ear.

_I love you too,_ she thought back as the blackness took hold, _And I do not want to leave you either._

* * *

><p>* tel = Vulkhansu, bond<p>

* ko-kugalsu = Vulkhansu, fiancée

* "Ashaya nash-veh du. Ri nash-veh trasha du." = Vulkhansu, "I love you. I will not leave you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Evil cliffhanger I know...but don't be as mean as me! If you have a few seconds to spare please send a kind thought or two my way; it's been a really rough week here in the Wahoogal household and I could use a little love. Who knows, it might just make me put the next chapter up that much faster!


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your kind words of encouragement; they've really helped me through a difficult time. Here's chapter 52 early as a thank you.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Iron Will<strong>

_**Dima's Planet, **_**2287.104, 1202 hours.** Healer Ketrick approached, tricorder extended, and examined T'Alora as her eyes fell closed. Beside her Veren's breath stuttered and a soft cry escaped his lips; his k'diwa was cool to the touch and her mind was silent. Struggling for composure he looked up to the Healer for answers.

"She lives," he replied. "For how much longer I cannot determine without further examination. We must return her to the ship with the others."

"Understood," he said shakily. Reluctantly he stood and relinquished T'Alora's hand as she was placed on a stretcher for transport. Who had injured his Ha'ge in this manner, and why? Like every Vulcan T'Alora would not willingly harm another sentient creature; however, she would have defended herself if attacked and having witnessed his ko-kugalsu spar on numerous occasions Veren knew she was very capable. Whatever incapacitated her and the rest of the landing party struck rapidly and with no warning.

If only he had been able to decipher T'Alora's message then they would know where to start their search for the perpetrator.

As he looked around Veren saw that the 7 other crewmembers were also being loaded onto stretchers. Taking a headcount he determined that Lieutenant Commander T'Landit was missing; he was about to inquire into what was being done to locate her when Lieutenants Hifar and Grynda emerged from the cave bearing the missing officer in their arms. She was as afflicted as the rest.

Lieutenant T'Melia stood beside him examining her tricorder with interest. "Our equipment states that there are no other life forms in the vicinity."

He looked down at the screen and arrived at the same conclusion, however, he did not believe it. "Your equipment must be out of order; there is no other alternative present for the paralytic to be dispersed."

"I do not believe the equipment to be defective as you state," she protested as he took the device from her hands. No sooner had she spoken then Lieutenant Amaan, who had been standing guard on the eastern edge of the perimeter, fell to the ground. He was as stricken as T'Alora and the landing party.

Veren proceeded to do a cursory examination while Healer Ketrick was summoned back to the clearing. Unlike T'Alora, Lieutenant Amaan's immobilization was instantaneous; he did not cry out nor make any motion to warn the others, he simply fell where he stood. Upon witnessing their latest comrade fall victim to the mysterious illness the crew banded together and formed a tight, protective circle around the fallen Lieutenant, mindful of another attack. Healer Ketrick made straight for his new patient and began studying his neck with great interest; when he did not find what he sought he began searching Lieutenant Amaan's lower body.

In an uncharacteristic move Veren made his frustration manifest. "Healer, I am willing to assist you if you would but inform me…"

"There," T'Melia interjected, pointing to a miniscule puncture mark on the Lieutenant's ankle that oozed green blood. "The injection site is much lower on Lieutenant Amaan than on the others."

_Injection site?_ Veren had not seen any marks on T'Alora's body—then again he had been too distracted to notice such miniscule markings.

"Yes," Healer Ketrick agreed. Holding his scanner over the spot he enhanced the image. The mark was 2.1 millimeters in diameter and had jagged edges, suggesting that it was not made by a needle.

Standing over the fallen man Veren was once again struck by the different presentations of the affliction and stated as much to the Healer who cocked his head to the side in interest. "You are suggesting that there are qualities in Lieutenant T'Alora's blood that aided her initial resistance to the toxin?"

The thought had not occurred to him but now that the Healer presented it in such a light… "Yes."

"What blood qualities would T'Alora possess that Amaan and the others do not?" T'Melia asked. The two men shared a glance over the Lieutenant's head, neither one willing or able to break T'Alora's confidence.

"I concur with your premise," Healer Ketrick diplomatically segued, "And will begin testing your hypothesis once we return to the ship." Stretcher bearers stepped forth and carefully strapped in Lieutenant Amaan. The group filed out of the forest—phasers at the ready—and headed for the shuttle with Veren trailing in the rear.

During the walk back to the shuttle he puzzled over the message T'Alora attempted to pass on to him. His cause was hindered by the fact that she was easily able to converse in 5 languages and was proficient in 4 others. Had she been attempting to speak with him in Standard, her first language, or had she reverted to Vulkhansu in the midst of her distress? Perhaps she had spoken Swahili, the native tongue of her mother, in which case he would have been unable to understand her without the aid of a translator. As he puzzled these details over it occurred to Veren that the toxin that paralyzed T'Alora may also have confused her speech; she may have believed she was speaking in one language when in reality she was speaking nonsense.

Forcing the pessimistic thought aside he focused on what she had said, starting with his native Vulkhansu. _Gol_. _Gol'dvun-ator, gol'dvunek, gol'nev—gol'nev_*! T'Alora had been speaking Vulkhansu and she had been seeking help. What had she said next? _Zha…zhagra, zhai-kur, zhai-tukh, zhaitra, zhal, zhar, zhar-kur, zhar-tor_*_… _Veren let loose a soft, almost inaudible sigh; none of those words made sense given the context of the situation. He repeated this same strategy with the pre-fix ora and again came away empty-handed.

The trees were thinning and he could see the shuttle in the field, halfway between the woods and the camp. His gaze lingered on the aircraft where his Ha'ge lay unconscious. He knew he would be reunited with her soon but for Veren it would not be soon enough; without their bond he felt bereft. Distracted as he was he nearly stepped on a diminutive orange creature that rolled into his path. He looked at it curiously for a moment as it's three blunted tentacles waved; he was about to step over it without another thought when he suddenly understood T'Alora's earlier warning.

"Glazhau kau*!" Veren shouted to the others as he leapt out of the way. Sprawled on his back in the brush he watched the creature grow exponentially, it's tentacles waving wildly as they reached out to strike him. He prepared to roll out of the way when a phaser blast rang out; as quickly as the creature grew it swiftly deflated to it's smaller size.

Veren rose to his feet and discovered Lieutenant Hifar holstering his phaser while peering over the alien life form. The rest of the rescue party soon followed suit. The creature appeared to have fallen on it's side, it's tentacles flopped over it's body, unmoving. Veren crouched down beside the creature with outstretched fingers.

"Kroykah!" He withdrew his hand as T'Melia penetrated the sphere of curious on-lookers, a large specimen jar in her hands. "If this creature is the culprit responsible for the affliction affecting our crewmates than we must take all proper precautions."

He was most fortunate that T'Melia had the presence of mind to halt his progress when she did. It was now most evident that he was not thinking clearly. Using the jar she gently scooped the life form up before screwing the air hole punctured lid on tight. Mindful of a retaliatory attack the group made haste toward the shuttle and returned to the _T'Kara Mol_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>T'Kara Mol Medical Bay, <strong>_**2287.104, 1726 hours. **Veren attempted to remove all trace of emotion from his face as the Healer approached the bed; glancing down he caught sight of the needle in Healer Ketrick's hand. "This will be the fourth blood draw you have taken since we returned; to what end?"

"If you will follow me I will explain." Veren accompanied the Healer across the Medical Bay to the lab after he had retrieved the blood. As the two men walked he saw the 9 other stricken crewmembers in their beds. Had anyone been unwitting of the situation they would have thought the patients asleep instead of comatose.

In the room beyond he saw a dozen technicians moving about industriously, working alone or in pairs in search of a cure. On a solitary work station in the center of the room stood the specimen jar from the surface; the orange being inside alternated between expanding and retracting it's form in an effort to break free.

"The container is made of triple-reinforced glass. The creature will be unable to escape," T'Melia stated as she joined him and Healer Ketrick in crossing the room.

Her words had the intended reassuring effect. "Understood."

The Healer held out his hand as they approached the far work station and T'Melia passed over the small vial in her palm containing 5.6 milliliters of an orange and milky-white fluid. "The creature produced this sample 4.9 hours ago. We have since isolated the paralytic enzyme and have been running tests to create an antidote."

"How soon will a cure be produced?" he quickly asked.

Healer Ketrick shook his head. "A cure has not yet been found, however, another interesting discovery has been made. Lieutenant T'Alora is metabolizing the enzyme 7.33 times faster than her counterparts."

Veren cocked his head to the side. "The paralysis is temporary?"

"Yes," the Healer supplied, "The effects are lessening with every hour. What is most interesting is how the Lieutenant's blood is assisting her in filtering out the enzyme." T'Melia handed the Healer a pipette and he skillfully withdrew a sample of T'Alora's blood, depositing it in the middle of a petri dish. Veren looked to T'Melia but she did not comment on the subject of the red blood; no doubt that would be a conversation reserved for another time. Next Healer Ketrick took a clean pipette and deposited 0.2 milliliters of secretions from the creature in the same dish. He placed the combined samples under a nearby microscope and adjusted the lens accordingly. After making careful notes of his observations he ushered a colleague aside and examined the specimen under the microscope to his left.

"Is your hypothesis correct?" T'Melia inquired.

"Yes," Healer Ketrick replied, stepping away from the lens. Addressing them both he declared, "The iron in T'Alora's blood is accelerating the filtration process."

This was welcome news. "Then we must give her more iron."

The Healer shook his head. "We must not act hastily, Lieutenant Commander. Too much iron in the Lieutenant's bloodstream for a prolonged period of time will have detrimental effects on her liver and heart as well as her joints." He consulted his PADD reviewing the numbers. "No, we must conduct further tests to ensure her future well-being."

"Her future well-being is being negatively affected by lying in that bed. Surely 1 or 2 grams…"

"1 or 2 extra milligrams could permanently damage T'Alora's body in ways we cannot anticipate, not only because of her unique physiological make-up but also due to the relatively unknown nature of the toxin," T'Melia replied. Taking a calming breath she added, "You are not alone in this, Lieutenant Commander. All of us wish to see our colleagues restored to us as swiftly and safely as possible. We will not rest until we are successful and for us to be successful we must plan carefully and act accordingly."

She broke her gaze with him and looked around the room, Veren following suit, where he discovered the other medical officers and scientists frozen and staring back at him intently. They too had friends and colleagues lying motionless in the next room. Taking a deep breath he willed himself to think and act logically for the sake of his k'diwa. With a grateful nod Veren turned heel and left the room, returning once more to T'Alora's bedside.

* * *

><p>"<em>She lives,<em>" Healer Ketrick declared. "_For how much longer I cannot determine without further examination. We must return her to the ship with the others._"

"_Understood._"

_I AM HERE!_ T'Alora attempted to scream. _I CAN HEAR YOU! I AM HERE! _She felt them lift her body onto a gurney and prepare her for transport without her having uttered a single word, her heart seizing as they carried her away. This was the stuff of nightmares; she was locked into her body with absolutely no control, her senses and higher mental faculties still intact. Straining every muscle T'Alora tried in vain to raise an eyebrow, lift a finger, part her lips…any movement would do and yet nothing came of her efforts.

Minutes soon passed that felt like hours as she struggled.

"_Place her in the corner in bed 10,_" Junior Healer Yarel ordered. Once secured in her new berth T'Alora was left alone again. There was a scrape of a chair beside her but she did not hear anything more from that quarter as the Medical Bay bustled with activity. News of the condition afflicting the landing party spread and presently Captain Evanna descended from the Bridge for a debriefing. A few words carried to T'Alora's bedside but they brought little new news: _creature, toxin, unknown_…

Before returning to her post the Captain paused at the foot of her bed and T'Alora once more heard the scrape of a chair pulled back. "At ease, Lieutenant Commander."

_Veren!_ She had not expected him to take his earlier oath quite so literally and yet she was secretly pleased that he had not left her side.

"You will update me as soon as there is any change in her condition."

"Yes, Captain."

Captain Evanna soon departed and Veren resumed his seat. Knowing her sa-sugalsu was close at hand made T'Alora re-double her efforts.

Hours went by; she listened as Healer Ketrick and Veren discussed blood draws before walking off to the lab. She desperately wished they would stay and speak of such things in her presence so that she would have some hope of a cure. When Veren returned he was as silent as ever.

T'Alora continued to struggle to force her uncooperative limbs into compliance. If only she could make her awareness known to him…

She lost all track of time until Junior Healer Yarel approached her bed. "Healer Ketrick has authorized the use of this intravenous solution for the Lieutenant. He believes it will aid her in her recovery."

Same as before she felt nothing as the needle was depressed into her arm nor as the solution was introduced into her bloodstream. Again she wished either Veren or Junior Healer Yarel would elaborate on this new course of treatment and what outcome was anticipated.

More time passed. A tray was brought bearing food and placed nearby for Veren. She did not hear the accompanying sounds of silverware.

"You must keep up your strength." _T'Melia_. T'Alora tried to open her eyes and gaze at her friend. "She will need your assistance most when she awakens. If you do not eat…"

"I will take sustenance when she does," Veren coolly replied. It was becoming rapidly apparent that her obstinacy was rubbing off on her sa-sugalsu. Had she been able she would have chided him for claiming one of her greatest faults for his own.

T'Melia said nothing for several seconds, no doubt reaching the same conclusion. "Very well." Her friend departed shortly thereafter.

T'Alora was plunged into silent contemplation once more; meanwhile the intravenous fluids steadily dripped down into her arm.

* * *

><p><em><strong>T'Kara Mol Medical Bay, <strong>_**2287.105, 0541 hours. **He sat beside her as night turned to day, clasping her hand firmly in his as she remained unresponsive. 5.31 hours after the intravenous solution was introduced to T'Alora's bloodstream he rose from his seat and stretched in an effort to stave off exhaustion. As he rolled his neck Veren looked down at his Ha'ge. She blinked back at him and he stifled a cry; relief flooded his system and he gifted her with a rare smile.

"Welcome back, T'Alora."

* * *

><p>T'Alora regained control of her mouth 92.7 minutes later, at which time she described her experiences to Veren and Healer Ketrick. It was 4.1 days before she was well enough to be discharged and another 24.8 before the last patient—Lieutenant Bloc—was able to walk out of the Medical Bay under his own power. T'Alora worked half shifts while she recovered her strength and spent her free time tending to her afflicted friends, reading and speaking to them as if they were fully conscious. A true cure was never discovered and the orange creature was released back into the wild before they broke orbit. Papers were already being prepared on the alien life form for publication in scholarly journals and warning buoys were left as a precaution for future travelers.<p>

And so it was that 25.6 days after their arrival the _T'Kara Mol_ left Dima's Planet for their next mission.

* * *

><p>* Gol, Gol'dvun-ator, gol'dvunek, gol'nev—gol'nev = Vulkansu, Na'nam province, relay, relay, help—help<p>

* Zha…zhagra, zhai-kur, zhai-tukh, zhaitra, zhal, zhar, zhar-kur, zhar-tor = Vulkhansu, Zha…game, gray-light, tin, thalamus, whisper, rust, orange, rust

* "Glazhau kau!" = Vulkhansu, "Look out!"


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N:** Thanks for all the well-wishes last week everybody; we had a close call with my grandmother (a nonagenarian!) but she's back home with us now and doing much better. Phew! Anyhow, here's another chapter for your reading pleasure—enjoy!

* * *

><p><span><strong>Lunch<strong>

_**Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol, **_**2287.158, 0216 hours. **"_There is nothing more we can do for her; she is gone._"

_T'Alora struggled against the binding blackness. _"_NO!_" _she attempted to cry out, _"_I am still here! I AM STILL HERE!_" _Her body grew heavy; they were burying her alive. _"_HELP! STOP! I AM STILL HERE!_" _The world closed in around her as the earth was packed in and she began to hyperventilate as the mourning bells chimed…_

T'Alora fell out of her bunk, sheets tangled around her, to the sound of her comm. Taking a look around to get her bearings she quickly discovered that Veren had not come to her quarters that evening. He had tried diligently to help her overcome her residual panic attacks since the incident on Dima's Planet but T'Alora's constant nightmares and restlessness disrupted even his minimal sleep patterns; it was only logical that he sought occasional refuge in his own quarters before his efficiency suffered too.

She became aware again of the chime persisting in the background and rose to answer the call; Se'tak's smiling image instantly filled the screen. Although they had exchanged numerous written and verbal messages they had not spoken directly to one another in 6.9 months.

"Hey, how are you?!" Before she could reply he looked behind her at the mangled sheets and furrowed his brow. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

The ringing comm had been the impetus that pulled her out of her nightmare so her words were not a lie. "Yes."

He looked genuinely contrite. "Sorry," Se'tak said with a shrug of the shoulders, "Guess I wasn't thinking."

"That is quite alright," she replied. "I would rather speak with you than rest." She did not give him a chance to question her statement before inquiring after his well-being.

"I'm good," he enthusiastically exclaimed, "Really good. I've been working hard but I've got a bit of a break now which is why I'm calling."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You need a reason to speak with me?" she teased.

"What? No! T'Alora…" Se'tak looked at her more closely then broke out into a grin and stuck out his tongue catching on to the joke. "Very funny. Look, I heard a rumor that a Vulcan ship was headed this way to pick up supplies and I was wondering if it was you guys." T'Alora cocked her head to the side. The _T'Kara Mol_ was indeed due to re-stock their stores but her pi'sa-kai had been rather vague as to where 'this way' was; when she asked as much he slapped his palm against his forehead for his carelessness. "Sorry, Starbase 23. We're here for a few days of downtime before our next assignment."

She nodded. "We are indeed headed toward that Starbase and unless unforeseen circumstances delay us we should arrive there in 1.78 days."

"Great! Want to meet up for lunch?"

The corners of her mouth ticked up in a smile. "That would be acceptable; and as I am employed and you are volunteering your time for the betterment of the intergalactic community I insist that you allow me to pay for the meal."

"No way I'm saying no to that! Let me know when you get in and want to meet up; here's the comm info for where I'm staying," he proceeded to rattle off the address of the hostel where he was currently residing, adding, "And bring Veren too, I want to meet my future brother-in-law."

"I will endeavor to do so. Veren is eager to meet you as well."

"Uh oh," her pi'sa-kai said with a nervous chuckle, "Eager, huh? That's not good. What'd you say about me?"

"You will have to wait until the appointed hour and ask him yourself."

"T, what'd you tell him? Seriously, T'Alora, you didn't…"

T'Alora cut the transmission with a smug smirk then submitted her request for shore leave and returned to bed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mess Hall, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2287.159, 0645 hours. **She had already been in the Mess for half an hour when Veren entered, bearing his food tray and making his way toward her. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

He set his tray down across from her. "Did you sleep well?"

"No," T'Alora replied, "I did not."

Veren canted his head to the side. "Perhaps we should re-visit the subject of an assistive sleep aid."

She bit back a scowl; they had discussed the matter at length and she had not changed her mind. She claimed not to want a prescription because the induced lethargy would interfere with her duties but that was not the full truth. Now that her humanity had been made known to the crew T'Alora was working herself twice as hard to prove her worth and she knew that medication would only further highlight her weaknesses. "I have already stated that I have no desire to rely on any narcotic Healer Ketrick might prescribe to help regulate my sleep cycle."

He narrowed his eyes as he leveled the challenge. "Then how do you propose we resolve your current issue?"

"I suggest we allow my subconscious ample time to heal itself without resorting to addictive medications that would impair my judgment." She kept her main motivations private and narrowed her eyes on her sa-sugalsu. Veren was on the verge of a rebuttal but kept his tongue, allowing her to change the topic of conversation. "Have you had an opportunity to review my request for shore leave?"

One eyebrow rose. "I was unaware that you requested shore leave."

She nodded. "I submitted the paperwork at 0248 hours this morning after receiving a call from Se'tak. He has informed me that he will be staying on Starbase 23 for the, and I quote, 'next few days'. We have tentative plans to meet for midday meal upon the ship's arrival."

"I see." Veren powered up his PADD and reviewed her proposal.

"Your presence has also been requested. Se'tak greatly desires to meet you."

His eyes widened at the unexpected invitation. "I will endeavor to join you."

"Thank you."

After he approved her request they partook of the morning meal in silence. Veren strongly believed that she was mishandling her treatment of her sleep deprivation and she felt the full brunt of his feelings from across the table, making for a very uncomfortable start to her day.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bridge, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2287.160, 1154 hours. **In the ensuing days Veren kept a close watch on his ko-kugalsu but her nightmares did not dissipate—if anything they intensified. He did his best to comfort her but the images her subconscious conjured up were so terrifying that she could not be easily soothed. That morning he was so tired he was operating at 11.7% below peak efficiency and he knew that T'Alora, who was working the same shift and had slept less than he had, was even more exhausted. How she was managing her current workload was beyond his comprehension.

Presently they were on the Bridge updating the navigations console. Now that the ship was in dock a skeleton crew had taken over for the main bridge crew and were manning their stations, paying the two of them little attention. T'Alora was lying on her back on the floor with her torso tucked up into the machinery; she held one hand out in waiting. "Number 4 wrench please." Veren dutifully passed the tool and 3.06 seconds later it was returned. "I requested the number 5 wrench, please. This is a number 4."

He knew that she had asked for the number 4 and that the error was hers, not his. Still, he let the slip pass without any rebuke. They worked in silence for another 16.1 minutes until he was through, then he requested that she reinstate the power for that console; when she did not readily comply he leaned over and peered into her workspace.

T'Alora was fast asleep.

Veren was torn. He did not want to wake her but neither could he allow her to nap while on-duty. "Lieutenant." T'Alora did not budge. Looking around he caught furtive glances being shot their way by the crew. If not for their audience he would have let her be but decided that when she woke he would instead relieve her, allowing her to catch a nap in her quarters before meeting with Se'tak. He crouched down on his haunches beside her. "Lieutenant T'Alora," he firmly declared.

* * *

><p>She came to with a start, banging her head as she did so. The wiring that had cushioned her during her slumber now ensnared her and she struggled to wrest herself free and get to her feet. As she moved to stand Veren rose with her and T'Alora became acutely aware that all eyes were on her; her cheeks burned hot in embarrassment.<p>

"Lieutenant, you are dismissed. I will fulfill your remaining duties."

Lightning fast she turned her angry gaze on Veren. How dare he undermine her authority! He could not understand why he was the source of her sudden rage and his confusion incensed her still more. Knowing there was nothing she could do now without damaging her reputation further T'Alora held her head high and exited the Bridge. Her shift was scheduled to end in 20.07 minutes anyway, giving her ample time to change out of her uniform and meet Se'tak on the Starbase. As she entered the turbolift she turned and shot her sa-sugalsu one last glower as the doors closed.

* * *

><p>Veren gulped hard as the turbolift descended. While he still did not know how he had erred he did know that T'Alora would inform him of his oversight at her earliest opportunity, repeatedly and vociferously. This knowledge only increased his trepidation.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Terran Gastronomy, Starbase 23, <strong>_**2287.160, 1237 hours. **Se'tak was late, as usual; she had thought that his punctuality would improve as he matured but it had not. T'Alora waited patiently and kept watch outside of the restaurant, scanning the faces of the people that passed. Loud music pulsed through the doors behind her and she internally grimaced at the prospect of spending any length of time inside such an establishment. If not for her sa-kai's insistence on Terran food she would have recommended the much quieter Risian restaurant on the other side of the Starbase.

Suddenly she spotted Se'tak darting through the crowd, his overgrown hair half flopping down in front of his eyes. He was 1.96 meters away when he accidentally knocked into a Deltan; he quickly apologized and ensured that she was not harmed all while flashing her his most charming grin. T'Alora remembered that smile well and recalled the many instances he used it throughout their childhood, usually to try and avoid punishment. As she reminisced she saw the scowl on the Deltan's face soon turn to a smile. Se'tak's easygoing demeanor served him well and would continue to do so in his future career.

Soon he crossed the distance between them and swept her up in his arms, lifting her and swinging her around the floor. "T!"

She smirked at his enthusiastic greeting. "It is pleasing to see you as well, Se'tak."

He set her back down and eyed her critically. "You're shrinking." Se'tak put his hand on top of her head and drew it dramatically to his chin. "Yep, definitely getting shorter."

T'Alora raised an eyebrow at his antics. "I am not shrinking, you have grown taller." Her statement was factual; Se'tak now stood 1.905 meters tall, taller even than their sa-mekh. He had also put on more muscle since she saw him last if the slight bulge of his biceps was anything to go by. However, his style of dress had altered little. He was currently wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a faded, graphic print t-shirt with a dark gray, zip-up, hooded sweatshirt. All his clothes looked to be in desperate need of a wash and even his sneakers had seen better days.

He laughed at her matter-of-fact manner and hugged her again. "I've missed you," he whispered.

"I have also missed you," she whispered back. She had not realized how much she had missed her pi'sa-kai until he was standing there before her, making her long for the presence of Selas, Mama and Sa-mekh as well.

At that instant a group of patrons exited the venue and the blaring music hit them both with full force. Se'tak glanced up at the garish neon lights of the sign and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I know this isn't really your kind of place but…"

"You have a strong inclination for familiar food and this is the only establishment capable of providing it on this Starbase, therefore it is only logical that we eat here." Another young couple left as she spoke, the loud music pulsing out after them. "However, perhaps we may request that they lower the volume by 20% before we are seated."

He grinned. "Deal."

* * *

><p>They were seated in a booth far away from the sound system and their waitress provided them with menus. Terran Gastronomy's offerings were extensive and as she perused the list Se'tak talked steadily about his life and work in the Federation Peace Corp.<p>

"…and so then we had to dig this well and we figured between the 3 of us it wouldn't take that long but we ended up spending 4 days camped out in the wilderness before we hit water. It was crazy!" His grin broadened as he privately recalled the experience.

"It is most fortunate for the Mundanians that you were all able to assist them. I am certain that they are appreciative of your efforts."

"Yeah." The waitress set down 2 glasses of water and asked if they were ready to order. "Not yet," Se'tak glanced at her nametag, "Wanda, but thanks. We'll probably be a few more minutes."

"Sure, take your time." She grinned shyly back at him and twined a lock of brown hair around her finger before returning to her work.

T'Alora glanced up over her menu at him with one eyebrow raised. "Sa-kai…"

"What?"

"Were you flirting with our waitress?"

Although he appeared shocked at her accusation she knew it was a ruse. "What if I was?" he asked back with a waggle of his brow.

She set her menu aside. "Surely you did not miss the sizeable ring located on her left hand."

Se'tak shrugged and casually looked over his menu options as she sipped her water. "Engaged isn't married, T'Alora—you should know that. _Besides_, I wasn't flirting, I was just being polite."

His implication was clear and she very nearly spat her straw out of her mouth. "I can assure you I have been nothing but perfectly polite to our waitress since our arrival."

Her sa-kai leaned back in his seat and grinned, never bothering to look up at her. "I love that I can still yank your chain," he teased. Casually setting the menu aside he straightened again and leaned over the tabletop. "And speaking of engaged where's Veren? I thought you said he was coming today."

She picked up the list of offerings and studied them in earnest. "He will join us when his shift is over."

"Ooookkkk…" Se'tak took a large gulp of his water. "So tell me more about him before he gets here." She opened her mouth to start when he stopped her, "And not just the boring stats, please; I want to know what type of guy he is."

"Very well." Despite her own feelings at the moment T'Alora wanted her sa-kai to form a favorable first opinion of her sa-sugalsu and so began listing his many admirable attributes; as she did her earlier anger abated. Veren was a remarkable man by any account and Se'tak did not hesitate to agree with her assessment.

"He seems like a good guy—can't wait 'til he gets here." Before she could reply Wanda returned to take their order.

As the Moroccan portion of the menu intrigued her the most T'Alora worked from there, ordering an eggplant salad and chickpea and vegetable stew with a side of cous-cous. When she was finished she passed the menu to Wanda after she had input the order into her PADD.

"Sure thing, and do you want anything different to drink?"

"No, thank you, the water will be sufficient." She shot a pointed look at her sa-kai only he was too engrossed in the menu to notice. When he did not speak up straight away Wanda let loose a small cough to catch his attention and Se'tak looked up with an apologetic grin on his face.

"Sorry. My turn?" The waitress nodded and he exhaled slowly. "Ok, I'm going to apologize in advance 'cause it's going to be a bit complicated. T, you're still paying, right?" She replied in the affirmative while sensing that she would soon come to regret her offer. "Great. Ok, for here I'll have the garden salad with blue cheese dressing to start and a vegetarian cheeseburger with a side of fries and a soda. May I have pepper jack instead of American?"

"Sure, not a problem." Wanda hastily put in the order. "Was there anything else?"

"Yeah, I'd like to place some to-go orders too if you don't mind." He waggled his brows at T'Alora and she resisted the urge to smack herself in the forehead as she used to when they were children. Se'tak proceeded to order another garden salad with tofu, Thai-styled noodles with peanut sauce, 2 bean burritos, spaghetti in vegetable marinara sauce, a side of samosas and a large bowl of lentil soup. She wondered where he planned to put it all.

Se'tak handed Wanda the menu and gave her his brightest smile yet. "Thank you so much; I hope it won't be too much trouble."

She was tapping away at her PADD sending his orders to the kitchen and when she looked back at him her cheeks flushed scarlet. "It's fine, really. I'll have the chef keep everything warm for you and bag it when you're ready to go." She turned away to get his drink.

"You're the best!" T'Alora raised an eyebrow and stared at him until she got his attention. "What?"

"I do hope you were referring to me in your previous statement." She had already done the math in her head; the meal was going to cost her 187.45 credits, and that was before the inclusion of the customary gratuity.

"You're the best too, T." She continued to glare at him and he yanked uncomfortably on the collar of his shirt. "What? I'm still growing! And there's a stasis unit and microwave back at the hostel so I thought I'd take advantage of it while I could. You tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing if all you'd had to eat was kale for a month!"

T'Alora relaxed. "Very well," she conceded, "In this instance and only for you will I make special allowances, so long as it does not become a habit; however, you could have informed me of your plan before the start of the meal."

"Yeah, but if I had how could I have known if you'd still be willing to pay?" At her shocked expression Se'tak sank back in his chair and laughed long and hard.


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N:** This chapter might be a little OOC but I hope you'll go with it.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Denial is Not a Solution<strong>

_**Terran Gastronomy, Starbase 23, **_**2287.160, 1324 hours. **They were nearly through with their meal, Se'tak eagerly devouring the last of his burger, when Veren entered the establishment. T'Alora had her back to the door and did not notice his entrance until her sa-kai caught sight of him. He hastily wiped the grease from his hands and mouth and leapt to his feet.

"Veren! It's nice to finally meet you!" he said, one hand extended. T'Alora watched her sa-sugalsu examine it curiously then take it in his own; Se'tak quickly drew him into a one-armed hug. Upon his release Veren extended the ta'al. "Dif-tor heh smusa, Se'tak.*"

"Sochya e dif.*"

He slid into the booth next to her and Se'tak reclaimed his seat. "Thank you for your most warm welcome. It is pleasing to finally meet you as well."

"Pleasing, huh?" Again, he waggled his brow at T'Alora. "So you've told him _good_ things about me. Thanks, T." Se'tak returned his attention to Veren. "Are you hungry? Because there's plenty of vegetarian options and I'm sure…"

"I am not in need of nourishment at this time, thank you." In her mind's eye T'Alora saw that Veren had made a point of eating aboard the ship, not only to allow her more time to visit alone with Se'tak, but also to provide her ample opportunity to release her earlier anger. His plan had worked—to a point. Now she was simply upset with herself for her earlier dereliction of duty.

Throughout the silent exchange Se'tak remained oblivious. "Food on the _T'Kara Mol_ that good, huh?"

"The shipboard offerings are more than sufficient for our needs, yes."

Se'tak pursed his lips to keep from laughing at Veren's straightforward manner, no doubt reminding him of Sa-mekh. "Right," he said with a nod. "So what exactly do you do? Like what are your duties?"

As she silently finished her food she listened to Veren launch into a detailed outline of his responsibilities, Se'tak periodically interrupting to seek clarification or elaboration. They continued on in this manner for the next half hour and in that time T'Alora began to see what a truly gifted communicator her sa-kai was; the conversation flowed freely and Se'tak learned more about Veren than she had in the first six months of their acquaintance. It was nothing short of remarkable.

"And what do you do in your downtime?"

Veren looked to her then back to Se'tak. "I do not understand."

"Downtime? You know, when you're not working? What do you do for fun?"

In the back of her head T'Alora sensed her sa-sugalsu struggling to properly identify what 'fun' was. "I meditate," Veren said. "I exercise. I read…"

"What do you like to read?"

"I read technical journals, news reports, and poetry."

"Any Poe?"

One eyebrow shot up. "I am unfamiliar with this author. Is this a Vulcan poet?"

Se'tak shook his head, grinning. "No, Terran. Edgar Allen Poe. He's different. You might like it."

"I will indeed look into his work."

Her sa-kai took another sip from his glass and set it back on the tabletop. "Ok, you read, you work-out, you meditate. What else?"

"I…" Again, she sensed Veren's hesitation. "I draw."

_He draws_? Surely he had told her of that particular hobby before only her head was so muddled with exhaustion that she could not recall. T'Alora glanced across the table and saw the amazement she felt written all over sa-kai's face. "You draw?"

"Yes. My mother was also an artist. I prefer to paint, as she did, but our current living quarters aboard the ship are not conducive to such endeavors. I do sketch when the opportunity presents itself, which has been rare on this mission."

Se'tak glanced at her before speaking for them both. "Wow, that's really cool. Does Selas know you like art? Because he's the only artist on our side of the family—T and I can barely make stick figures." An exaggeration—she could sketch more than simple 'stick figures'—however, Se'tak's observation was not far off the mark.

"I have not had a chance to speak with your sa-kai about art; our schedules have been too disparate for any prolonged conversation."

"Yeah, I hear you; half the time I have the same problem. Well maybe some time you two will catch up and swap techniques or whatever."

"Yes," Veren agreed. "That would suit me very well."

Meanwhile T'Alora took a small sip of water to remove herself from the conversation. Her head ached miserably. Darting a glance at her companions she saw that Veren and Se'tak had moved on to other topics, providing the perfect opportunity for her to excuse herself and head toward the washroom. She desperately needed to splash some cold water on her face and breathe in the cool recycled air without drawing undue suspicion.

* * *

><p>Se'tak watched his ko-kai go out of the corner of his eye, waiting until she rounded the corner toward the bathrooms before changing topics. "Ok, what's going on?"<p>

Much as he expected Veren remained outwardly unfazed. "Clarify."

"Did you two have a fight or something? Because my sister's been acting weird during lunch but she's been acting weirder ever since you got here; plus she's got _huge_ dark circles under her eyes. Even if she was the kind of girl who wore make-up T wouldn't have been able to hide those so why hasn't she been sleeping? What happened?"

His future brother-in-law canted his head to the side. "What has T'Alora told you about our last mission?"

"Uh, nothing."

"I see." Veren considered the facts briefly before elaborating. "We were in orbit around Dima's Planet; T'Alora went planetside to repair a malfunctioning piece of equipment. She and the landing party were attacked by native creatures causing them to be 'locked in' to their own bodies. In light of this incident your ko-kai has been quite shaken and is not sleeping well." Out of the corner of their eye both men glanced toward the restrooms; T'Alora hadn't emerged. "I have been doing all that I can for her but the emotional ramifications of the attack have only intensified, not lessened. She refuses to seek medical aid and I cannot force her to seek such assistance no matter how hard I try."

Se'tak scoffed ruefully. "No one can force T to do anything—trust me, I've tried."

He sank back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. T didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to taking care of herself when she was stressed—he knew that firsthand. Glancing up at Veren he suddenly saw how tired-looking he was too. Se'tak felt bad for the guy—he really cared for T and seemed to be trying his hardest to help her. If only she weren't so damn stubborn.

He'd been called that too on occasion. And worse.

Then the thunderbolt struck. "You guys think maybe I could come visit you tonight on the ship? Maybe for dinner?"

"I am certain that such a visit can be arranged." He looked pleased and Se'tak realized he was beginning to read Veren pretty well. He was going to like having another brother around.

* * *

><p>After tea and dessert she and Veren returned to the ship together. Permission was granted for Se'tak to come aboard that evening for a tour and a meal. She urged him in the strongest possible terms to arrive on-time and although he promised he would T'Alora knew to meet him at 1805 rather than 1800 hours.<p>

They walked along the corridors in silence, Veren's arm pressing up against hers. She knew he wanted to discuss the morning's events to better understand her and her reaction but she found she did not have the energy for such a discussion. He lingered at the door to her quarters; they had the entire afternoon and evening free. "I believe I will take this opportunity to rest before Se'tak's visit."

She felt rather than saw his disappointment in forestalling their talk but he also felt the decision was wise. "I understand." Discreetly she pressed two fingers to his to demonstrate that there was no lasting damage and that her affection for him remained unchanged. His relief was palpable. "I will see you at 1800 at the starboard portal." With a nod he departed toward his own quarters.

T'Alora felt some light meditation was in order and after changing into loose clothing she settled down on the floor before her asenoi to clear her mind. Staring into the flame she watched it weave back and forth in it's slow, fiery dance; after so many years of practice she expected no less but inexplicably the flame split into two and as she pondered this phenomenon her eyes grew heavy and fell shut of their own accord.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol, <strong>_**2287.161, 0211 hours. **With a gasp T'Alora shot up in her bed, eyes wide and heart pounding. In the darkness beyond she heard a large figure jostle sharply in her desk chair then fall to the floor.

"Computer, lights, 25%," she ordered crisply. Looking to the ground she saw Se'tak covered in spare sheets.

"Don't get mad," he said, hands thrown up in surrender, one blanket half-covering his head. "I was just trying to help."

Her eyes narrowed into hard slits. She did not like the direction of this conversation already. "Clarify."

"Ok." Se'tak slowly picked himself up off the ground and sat back in her desk chair. "Back at the restaurant I asked Veren what was going on." He pushed back his hair and looked up at her meaningfully. "Don't give me that look, I know you and I knew something was up. He told me what happened and said you'd been having trouble sleeping and stuff so I thought I'd help. When you didn't meet up with us at the portal he got worried until I told him what I did; he let me in and we saw you asleep on the floor so we got you into bed. He stayed for awhile but in case you hadn't noticed these rooms are _ridiculously_ small so I told him I'd stay with you 'til you woke up and he could go back to his place and get some shuteye."

T'Alora whipped her blankets off and swung her legs around the side of the bed as he helped himself back into the chair. Her body felt heavy and her reactions were sluggish. "Se'tak," she said in an accusatory tone, "Did you drug me?"

"Yes." She shot daggers at him and resisted the urge to cross her quarters and throttle him. He threw his arms back up in surrender again. "But Veren didn't know anything about it, I swear! I slipped it in your tea when you weren't looking. I was going to do it at dinner but the opportunity presented itself then so I took it."

She leapt to her feet, wavering slightly. "Sa-kai, what do you think gives you the right to…"

"Because I know what you're going through," he interjected. By now the chair Se'tak sat in had been pushed to the farthest possible corner and he had no chance of escape. "And because I know you're too stubborn to help yourself so I did it for you."

T'Alora raised an eyebrow and advanced upon him. He shrank back as much as he could. "Explain yourself, _now_."

He winced but when he saw that she was not going to strike him he straightened in his seat. "T…" he began, "I know you think what I do is all well-digging and hut building but that's not everything. Do you remember about 4 months ago that big story that broke out at the Quincette Colony in the Bruegger system?" She nodded. Quincette was a human colony that had been struck down by a violent, mysterious illness. Starfleet had been called in to assist and discovered a virulent mutation of the Varicella virus. Approximately 2/3rds of the population were killed. "Well I was there."

Her eyes widened in surprise and Se'tak shook his head. "Yeah. Everyone was getting sick, even the doctors, and nobody knew what was going on. We were closer so Starfleet asked us to step in and help until they could get there. We suited up in full hazmat gear—so I guess we were prepped in that sense—but nothing could've prepared us for what we saw on the surface." Se'tak lowered his gaze to the floor.

"It was bad, T, really, really bad. I don't know what Starfleet was thinking sending us in there—it was like throwing a little dermaplast on a nicked artery, we just couldn't stop the bleeding. We went to work at an elementary school that'd been turned into a hospital and people were everywhere, all of them covered in white pustules and throwing up and moaning and…G-d it was awful. We'd all had training in basic first aid but Quincette needed doctors, _real_ doctors, and no matter what we did everyone around us kept getting sicker and sicker.

"Our third day there our group leader, Charlie, pulled me and my buddy Micah aside for a 'special' detail." Se'tak shook violently at the words and did not speak for several seconds as he fought to keep his composure. "We followed him out about 200 meters past a dusty playing field before the stench hit us. There was an abandoned backhoe nearby; Charlie said someone had dug the ditch but then they'd gotten sick and since they couldn't find anyone else trained on the equipment we'd have to do it by hand.

"It was a mass grave, T'Alora. The bodies were piling up so fast and the infection was spreading so rapidly that there was no other choice. We…we…" His voice shook and his eyes were moist when he finally looked up at her. All T'Alora wanted to do was pull him into a hug but she sensed he did not want that comfort; not yet. "We buried them. Micah actually threw up in his suit halfway through. Someone had already laid out some of the bodies and as long as I live I'll never forget the sight. The worst part was there was this one kid right on top—his body was covered in pox and he couldn't have been more than 10 years old—but the scary thing was that he looked just like Selas.

"I was beyond exhausted that night but I couldn't sleep—every time I closed my eyes I saw that kid and I dreamt he was Selas. He haunted me for weeks!" He ran a hand down his haggard face; suddenly Se'tak looked older than his 21.75 years. "Starfleet finally arrived after we'd been there almost a week. We stayed on 'cause they needed us to—all hands on deck and all. Once the situation got sorted out one of the medics took a look at me and asked what was going on. He was an older guy and I could tell he'd seen some stuff so I told him everything: about the bodies, the grave, the kid.

"And he understood. He gave me his personal comm info, told me to call him whenever I needed to talk, and said he was glad I got help when I did; he'd seen other guys who thought they were tough shit wait a lot longer and get a lot worse before doing what I'd done. Then he got me a prescription for some sedatives to help me sleep. That night was the first time in a month that that kid didn't haunt my nightmares." He looked up at her, eyes still watery, with a small grin on his face. "I think I'll take that hug now, if you're still offering."

She barely gave Se'tak time to stand before wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. Without having been there she could still envision the little boy who resembled their pi'sa-kai lying on a pile of bodies and she shuddered. When he was well enough Se'tak grasped her biceps and looked her straight in the eyes. "What I'm trying to say is denial _isn't_ a solution—not for me and not for you either. You need help; I know it and Veren knows it. We love you but you need to stop being a stubborn idiot about all of this. Go talk to a Healer and see what they have to say so I don't have to knock you out again, ok?"

T'Alora nodded solemnly. "I will."

"Good." He grinned.

She hugged him again but when they broke the embrace she leveled him with her sternest glare. "However, if you ever attempt to medicate me without my knowledge or consent ever again…"

"You'll kick my ass, I know. Veren warned me he would too after I told him what I did and he looks like he'd pack a whallop." T'Alora mentally agreed with Se'tak's assessment. "So," he said, "Since you missed dinner last night how about we go get some breakfast? My treat."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You are going to escort me to my own Mess Hall, are you not?"

Se'tak threw back his head and laughed. "'Course I am! What do you think I'm _made_ of credits?"

* * *

><p>That afternoon when her shift was through T'Alora spoke with Healer Ketrick at length about her recent difficulties and was surprised to discover that she was not alone in her travails. He prescribed a light sedative for infrequent use and encouraged her to seek him out should she be troubled in her sleep in the future. No one was more pleased about her decision to seek counsel than Veren.<p>

"While I do not approve of his methods your sa-kai's results are commendable," he declared. Veren also wisely pointed out that she had been placing undue pressure on herself in light of the Dima incident and that no one on the _T'Kara Mol_ thought less of her because of her humanity; indeed, he informed her, they held her and humans in general in higher regard as a result of knowing her and respecting her expertise. After further discussion they turned in for the evening and got their first good night's sleep in 56.37 days.

* * *

><p>* "Dif-tor heh smusa, Se'tak" = Vulkhansu, "Live long and prosper, Se'tak."<p>

* "Sochya e dif" = Vulkhansu, "Peace and long life."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2:** Forgot to mention this earlier but next week I'll be posting a new chapter to Selas' story, "Rising Son". I will be alternating between these two stories until the bonding ceremony at which time I'll update all of the kids' stories simultaneously (I'll let you know soon when that will be); so if you don't want to miss anything don't forget to set up your alerts! Thanks!


	55. Chapter 55

**Preparations**

_**Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,**_** 2288.07, 2054 hours. **"Mama, you know that I cannot provide you with that information at this time."

On the screen before her her mother sighed. "T, honey," she said in a marginally patronizing tone, "I know you can't give me an _exact_ date for your ship's return but how about an estimate? Surely you have some idea of when you'll be heading back to New Shannai'Khar. I'm only asking because now that the holidays are over it's full steam ahead planning for your bonding!"

Her mother's enthusiasm for the event mirrored her own and did much to relieve T'Alora of her earlier annoyance. "I do not have an exact date of return," she repeated, "However, I will make inquiries and get back to you with that information."

"Thanks, sweetie. That's all I ask."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2288.35, 0642 hours.** They had already been speaking for 42.7 minutes and were only halfway through discussing all the items on Mama's checklist.

"Have you thought about where you'd like to have the ceremony? Did you want to stay in New Shannai'Khar? I'm sure we can find a suitable venue there, but if we did it in New Shi'Khar then we'd have the benefit of your sa-mekh-al's diplomatic connections… Oh, and there's this beautiful park where you could have it! It's public property but it's not _too_ public. Of course we could find an indoor venue too if you want…" A sudden thought struck her and sent her off on another track. "Or did you want to have the bonding in New Gol? I know you said Veren's from there; maybe he wants to have it…"

"Veren has stated numerous times that he has no ties to the city of New Gol and it is of no consequence to him whether we have the ceremony there or elsewhere on New Vulcan. I am in agreement with him on this matter, therefore we will leave the location decision up to you."

"Oh. Alright then." Mama typed away at her PADD as she bit back a yawn; it was late in the evening in San Francisco and despite her obvious need for rest her mother insisted they discuss their plans. "New Shi'Khar it is. Don't worry, T'Alora, it'll be perfect!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2288.61, 1001 hours.** T'Alora returned to her quarters drenched in sweat, her muscles tingling pleasantly from exertion, to find Veren seated before her comm. On the screen in front of him her mother spoke in animated Vulkhansu. She caught the words music and rings.

"Ha," Veren replied evenly. "Gla-tor s'frei*."

Mama continued speaking and he repeated this refrain three more times before she saw her in the back of the room. "T'Alora!" She smiled wide. "I'm glad you're back. Thanks, Veren; this has all been very helpful."

He held his hand up in the ta'al. "I come to serve. Dif tor heh smusa*."

"Sochya e dif*."

As he rose from his seat his eyes sought out hers. "_Your mother is most eager to discuss our bonding ceremony arrangements, Ha'ge._"

"_So I see._" She held her hand out at her side and he pressed his fingers to hers. Veren's departure from her quarters was swift. Although she longed to take a sonic shower T'Alora knew her mother would not wait. She settled in her seat before the comm and steeled herself for a lengthy conversation.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2288.112, 1604 hours. **"Ok, so your brothers will be your honor guard and your bell ringers will be Casey, Poleia and T'Melia, correct?"

She nodded. "Yes. I have asked each of the girls and they have agreed to participate."

"Good. Now comes the really important part—we need to talk about _the dress_," Mama dramatically declared. Her smile was bright and she was radiant with excitement.

"Yes." Her choice of bridal wear was one facet of the planning process that T'Alora had a definitive opinion on. She touched the screen before her and called up the file of designs she believed would best suit her for the occasion. All were traditional Vulcan dresses with different ornamental accents.

Back in San Francisco her mother took in all the sketches. "Very nice," she murmured to herself as she reviewed one image after another. "_Very_ nice." Finally she looked up. "They're all beautiful. Which do you prefer?"

She instantly zeroed in on her top pick. It was a long dress with a high back that went from the nape of her neck to her ankle. The intricate embroidery circled the collar, the hem and the cuffs of the long trumpet sleeves. The cut of the garment also flattered her figure.

Mama clasped her hands to her chest and her eyes pooled with moisture. "It's divine," she gasped. "Have you thought about the c—…"

T'Alora pulled up the color swatches she had chosen. "I would like the dress to be made of a soft gold fabric in this hue and have the embroidery design incorporate these taupe, burgundy and chocolate tones. The honor guard outfits will be taupe-colored and the bell ringer garments will be made in this shade of burgundy."

"Lovely." Her mother sank back in her seat and gazed tenderly at the design. "T, may I make one little suggestion?" She nodded. "Might you consider swapping out the burgundy for a nice shade of green? Just to soften it up a little bit."

While she wavered and deferred to her mother over other decisions concerning her bonding in this she stood firm. Mama approved and made arrangements to commission a tailor on New Vulcan to create the masterpiece starting the following day. It was one of the swiftest planning calls she had had with her mother to date.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2288.126, 2313 hours. **T'Alora sat on her sa-sugalsu's bed with her legs outstretched, a PADD in hand, before opting for the more unconventional pose of lying on her belly. She continued to read for 13.68 minutes before gazing up at the back of Veren's head; he had been studying his comm. screen most closely since she first entered the room, reading up on the latest external gravometric readings and attempting to understand how they were able to negatively effect multiple minor Engineering systems.

The problems were not dire, however, and she knew he deserved a respite from his work. Languidly she reached out and stroked the fine tip of his ear. His resistance toward her advances lasted all of 9.5 seconds before she heard a low, deep, purr rumble in his chest. Continuing her ministrations T'Alora was pleased to see Veren close his eyes and tip his head back an additional 12 degrees in order to provide her easier access. It pleased her to see him relax and know that she was affecting him on such a primal level.

Running her fingers through his hair T'Alora became lost in the sensations; basking in the luxurious feelings she was unaware of the heights of Veren's passion until the desk chair fell with a crash and she found herself promptly rolled onto her back with him lying atop her.

"You undo me, Ha'ge," he whispered roughly against her ear. She lifted an eyebrow and he added, "I have no complaints." Gently nipping at her ear lobe and nuzzling her neck she trembled with desire. As Veren brought one hand up to her psi points she reached for his waistband.

* * *

><p>Later, when their passion was momentarily mollified, T'Alora rolled onto her back and stared up at the gray ceiling panels, her mind racing so that she could not sleep. "Veren?"<p>

"Yes, k'diwa?"

"With regards to our bonding ceremony, do you feel that you are well represented?"

He rolled onto his side so that he might view her properly. "I do not understand your query."

She continued to look up at the ceiling. "You have made numerous concessions during the planning of our bonding in consideration of my family. You have opted to forego a wholly traditional Vulcan ceremony and have included a reception replete with Terran traditions that I know must impinge upon your sensibilities. I…" she faltered, "I _fear_ it is not fair to you to ask so much when you will receive so little in return for your efforts."

His eyes blue-green eyes twinkled and the corners of his lips ticked marginally upward as he reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Ha'ge," he said, tenderly rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone, "When will you realize your true worth? You are hardly little, and so long as at the conclusion of the day you are my adun'a, I am your adun, and you are satisfied with me, then the details of our bonding remain unimportant." She curled up into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss into her hair. "You are well worth every effort and were it required I would make still greater sacrifices on your behalf."

"I am more than satisfied," she murmured into his chest.

* * *

><p>Having spent the night in his quarters Veren escorted her to her room the following morning to collect a data packet before heading to the Mess for breakfast. No sooner had they entered then the comm rang with her family's address in San Francisco scrolling across the bottom of the screen. T'Alora did not hesitate to answer.<p>

"T'Alora, look I'm glad I caught you. I tried to reach you yesterday but you weren't answering. I've been talking to some caterers in New Shi'Khar and I wanted to know if…oh! Hello, Veren."

He made a slight nod toward the screen. "Good morning."

Mama looked from her to Veren and back again in puzzlement.

"Mama?" T'Alora inquired. They needed to reach the Mess in the next 5.6 minutes if they wanted to keep to their morning routine. "You had some questions for me regarding the caterers?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. You know, maybe if I had Veren's personal comm info. then I'd be able to reach you sooner and we could discuss these things as they come up."

Their mutual distress flared across the bond. Behind her Veren dared not even breathe lest he draw more attention to himself. T'Alora immediately began speaking on other topics in an attempt to side-step the issue before dismissing her mother so they could tend to their duties. How she managed to avoid providing her persuasive mother with Veren's personal contact details she did not know.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Personal Quarters, T'Kara Mol,<strong>_** 2288.199, 1458 hours.** Having completed the rest of her personal chores during her day off T'Alora sat down before the comm to review her personal correspondence. Almost immediately she discovered a missive from her sa-mekh that intrigued her; it's subject heading read 'Invitation Mock-Up'. She quickly opened the letter.

"_T'Alora,_

_This evening your mother and I received the initial run of your invitation. As she was running 8.73 minutes late for her department meeting she requested that I submit the copy to you for your approval. Please forward all remarks to your mother so that she may convey them to the printer for future copies to be distributed._

_- Spock_"

Scrolling down she found the scanned image of the invitation. There were two copies laid out side-by-side, the left in flowing Vulcan script and the right in calligraphic Standard.

S'chn T'gai Spokh and Nyota Uhura

Request the honor of your presence as their daughter

T'Alora Amadika

Allies herself with

Veren of the clan K'net I'nari

At 1800 hours on 2288.300

New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan

A trill of excitement went through her as she read the words not once, not twice, but three times. The script remained unaltered and yet the change within her was great. The preparations she, Veren, and her family had engaged in for the last 192.5 days were made concrete in only 7 lines.

And there were only 101.7 more days until the ceremony would come to pass. A small smile spread across her face at the prospect.

* * *

><p>* "Ha. Gla-tor s'frei" = Vulkhansu, "Yes. I understand."<p>

* "Dif tor heh smusa" = Vulkhansu, "Live long and prosper."

* "Sochya e dif" = Vulkhansu, "Peace and long life."


	56. Chapter 56

**Impressions**

_**Personal Quarters, Vulcan Space Program Headquarters, New Shannai'Khar, **_**2288.290, 2238 hours.** T'Alora put away the last of her clothes in the bottom drawer of the dresser alongside Veren's clean sweaters. Down the hall in the kitchenette she listened to him rinse off the dinner dishes before retiring to the adjacent living room for the evening.

The _T'Kara Mol _touched down without incident on 2288.275 at 1100 hours local time—exactly 3.146 years after her departure. She and Veren were assigned on-base housing after disembarking and had slowly been moving in amidst the myriad number of debriefings scheduled by the Space Program Council. Once they dispensed with their duties and were granted leave they traveled to New Gol, visiting with Poleia, Ferlan, and their ko-fu, Kaia, as well as the extensive T'nar M'ren clan. Their tour of the agricultural dome was impressive and it was clear to T'Alora that her friend was well-settled and content. The young couple also visited the city itself and Veren led her around to the landmarks from his youth: the open air market, the apartment block he formerly shared with his sa-mekh, the school he attended, and the orphanage where he later lived. It was, T'Alora quickly discovered, a very enlightening and enriching experience for them both.

Walking down the hallway now she joined Veren on the sofa. In 3.29 days they would journey to New Shi'Khar where they would spend a week at her sa-mekh-al's house greeting and entertaining family and off-world guests prior to their bonding. Sitting beside him T'Alora rested her head on his shoulder and Veren twined his fingers with hers. She sensed his excitement over their upcoming nuptials and also, for the first time, his trepidation. "_Your family is very distinguished_," he declared, thinking not only of her immediate clan but also her extended family from the _Enterprise_."_I very much wish to make a good impression and am uncertain that I will do so._"

She squeezed his hand. "_You need not fear; I know that they will all welcome and accept you._" T'Alora continued to reassure him by reminding him of their successful visit with Se'tak 1.36 years previous as well as the comm calls exchanged with Mama, Sa-mekh and Selas.

"You are correct, Ha'ge." Veren slipped his hand out of hers and gently stroked her index and middle fingers. She could tell that her encouragement did little to ease his apprehension. T'Alora curled her feet up onto the sofa and rested herself against him more fully, literally and figuratively demonstrating her support. His anxieties would cease soon enough and in only 10.79 days they would be full-bonded and able to enjoy many such quiet nights as this in one another's company.

"_Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched…_"

* * *

><p><em><strong>S'chn T'gai Clan House, New Shi'Khar, <strong>_**2288.293, 1144 hours. **Sarek looked down from his second floor window and watched the young couple disembark from their hover cab. This was to be his first meeting with he-who-was-to-become-his-sa-fu-al, and he eyed Veren closely as he assisted T'Alora out of the automobile before retrieving their luggage. Sarek had offered to collect the pair from the transport station in his own hover car but they politely refused, no doubt wanting to extend the last few minutes of privacy they would share before the weeklong celebration began. There was a time where he was of a like mind but that was before Amanda's passing and the destruction of Vulcan; now Sarek welcomed the press of family and as it were he already thought their visits were too far and few between.

Veren settled the bill then proceeded up the walk with T'Alora a half step behind him. He was tall, even by Vulcan standards, and carried himself well; this boded well for him and yet Sarek still wondered at their relationship. Having been bonded twice he understood the complex nature of the commitment they were about to embark upon and thought that perhaps his ko-fu-il was not as well-informed upon the matter as she should be. T'Alora was wise but she was full young and the pledge she was about to make was not one to be taken lightly.

So much about the upcoming ceremony differed from tradition, from the young couple's first meeting to the service itself. His own first bonding with T'Rei bore little resemblance to the commitment Veren and T'Alora were about to make. Their bonding was a merger of influential families—that he and T'Rei were ill-suited for one another was inconsequential to their elders. By the time the ceremony took place Sarek was far in his Time and had only the vaguest recollections of the service (and later of Sybok's conception). It was no wonder that the relationship collapsed shortly thereafter.

However, in this rebuilt society all had changed; the rite of Telan t'Kanlar* was little observed now—and while in the immediate aftermath of the Destruction there were legitimate concerns for the well-being of the men without a ready mate, their unease proved to be unfounded. Spouses were finding one another in much the human fashion—through multiple episodes of courtship—before mating for life. The koon-ut-kalifee ritual was also being phased out as a result of these newer, stronger bonds.

But what precisely did that mean for T'Alora and Veren?

Sarek continued to watch unobserved as the couple approached his door, and it was providential for him that he did so for he quickly recognized that theirs was a true love match. Though he took the proper protective stance ahead of her Veren reached for T'Alora with his free hand, their fingers grazing in a tender, affectionate embrace. Such had been the way between him and Amanda when she was still living. His ko-fu-il was fortunate indeed in her choice of mate…almost as fortunate as he had once been.

He descended the staircase and answered the door as they rang the chime; before him stood T'Alora and Veren, both models of Vulcan decorum. Veren held up his hand in the ta'al. "Dif-tor heh smusa, Osu Sarek."

_Yes_, Sarek thought to himself as he returned the greeting, _The future is much altered and traditions have changed, yet the Vulcan essence has prevailed_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Transport Station, New Shi'Khar, <strong>_**2288.294, 0950 hours.** Nyota rocked back and forth on her feet, struggling to keep her expression neutral as other passengers bustled around her. Today was the day she'd be seeing T'Alora for the first time in over 3 years AND she was going to meet Veren! It was all so exciting she simply couldn't keep still.

She slipped her arm through Spock's and gave it a little squeeze as they waited. T and Veren were picking them up but their transport got in earlier than expected; while they waited the kids went off to collect the luggage.

"They will arrive presently, k'diwa," Spock said as he patted her hand.

"I know, I just…"

Before she could explain that she was ready to burst from all the emotion her adun nodded toward the door. "I believe the children are here."

Nyota's head shot up; Spock was correct as she caught sight of Veren making his way toward them with T'Alora just behind. He stood a head taller than any of the other passengers in the terminal and was easy to spot. She stifled back a happy cry, not wanting to make T'Alora self-conscious with any emotional displays—at least not in public. Once they were back at Sarek's house she knew she wouldn't be letting her go anytime soon.

Or at least that's how she thought their reunion would play out; to her amazement T'Alora embraced her first. "Greetings, Mama."

She sank into her daughter's arms. "Oh T!"

Nyota felt rather than saw T'Alora's smile. "I have missed you very much as well."

As T'Alora moved on to embrace her sa-mekh Nyota took a good look at Veren. "Dif-tor heh smusa, Nyota." He then surprised her by embracing her in a hug of his own. Her shock must've been apparent because when he stepped away he looked at her rather quizzically. "Is that not how family greet one another?"

She smiled. Veren was trying so hard to impress her when he didn't need to; he'd already won T'Alora's heart and that was all that mattered. "It is," she acknowledged.

After greeting Spock they collected the others and picked up their bags. They quickly exited the station and proceeded toward the parking lot where the cruiser was waiting. The higher gravity began affecting Nyota more than she anticipated and though she tried not to let it show Veren graciously offered her his arm. She welcomed the extra support and gave his arm a gentle pat, liking her new son more and more with every step.

* * *

><p><em><strong>S'chn T'gai Clan House, New Shi'Khar, <strong>_**2288.296, 1037 hours.** Spock stepped into the living room and paused inside the doorway beside his sa-mekh, surveying the unfolding scene. His father and mother-in-law, Alhamisi and M'Umbha, had arrived the previous day and were currently seated on the sofa with Veren towering between them. They were animatedly encouraging his fledgling studies in Swahili with an impromptu lesson while Nyota and T'Alora ventured to the tailor's for their custom garments.

"I do not believe Veren has had much exposure to humans prior to his acquaintance with T'Alora," he declared.

"I believe you are correct." Sarek regarded the trio closely. "Although he is acclimating well to our rather singular clan. Do you not agree?"

"Yes," Spock agreed. "He is adjusting far better than I did when I was in his place."

Sarek glanced at him. "I do not agree with your self-assessment; however, I understand from whence it comes. When I first met your Uncle Mark I also did not believe that I presented myself to the best advantage. Your mother later assured me that the opposite was true."

"I know." Spock watched Alhamisi gesture wildly with his hands as he described his Kenyan home in great detail. M'Umbha, with her hand on Veren's knee, provided translation as needed. "Conversely, Mother informed me that your initial meeting with Grandmother and Grandfather could have—and I quote—'gone better'."

If his sa-mekh was startled by the revelation his late-adun'a had imparted he did not show it. Spock looked on intently as Veren progressed in his studies until Selas entered the room, arresting their attention by the grim expression on his face.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Banquet Room, Marviana's Restaurant, New Shi'Khar<strong>_**, 2288.299, 2314 hours.** Veren was—to put it mildly—overwhelmed. He believed he had in recent days performed admirably and ingratiated himself to his new family, a notion T'Alora daily reinforced. Now, however, he was uncertain how to proceed. The last 24 hours had seen an influx in human guests who had no blood or marital ties to the clan yet T'Alora considered them all family, and they were as disparate a group as could possibly exist.

This evening saw his Ko-mekh Nyota and Sa-mekh Spokh hosting an informal dinner in order to entertain their distinguished, off-world guests and facilitate introductions ahead of tomorrow's ceremony. Over the last 6.68 days Veren thought he had become reasonably fluent in interpreting human idiosyncrasies only to discover now that he was woefully ignorant; not only was their body language confusing but their speech patterns and accents also puzzled him greatly. Each attempt at a more in-depth conversation with one or another of his guests left him unsettled and he was currently seeking refuge at a solitary table in the far corner of the room.

Fortunately for him everyone was too busy getting reacquainted with one another to note his absence, his Ha'ge included. T'Alora sat at a table in the center of the room, conversing freely with her sa-kais and 5 other young humans of her acquaintance with ties to the _Enterprise_: Rebecca McCoy, Max Chekov-Daly, Kyson Sulu and Samuel and Lillian Kirk. He was content to watch them until the mention of his name bade him lift his head.

* * *

><p>"Hallo, Veren!" Scotty ambled over, giving a friendly wave that sent the scotch sloshing in his glass. He liked Veren—they'd been acquainted for the last 2.5 years workin' on the warp factor 12 engine along with T'Alora—and he knew he was a good man and a good engineer; Scotty also knew he couldn't have picked a better laddie for T'Alora if he tried. As he pulled out a chair he clinked glasses with the groom-to-be then sat down hard in his seat. "How are ye?"<p>

"I am doing well, Admiral. And yourself?"

"Oh fine, fine. T'is a right good party Uhura's throwin', isn't it?"

Veren nodded. "Yes." He watched the young man cock his head to the side for a moment and the corner of his eyes crinkled in confusion. "Mister Scott, what would give a person cause to 'break my kneecaps'?"

Scotty spit out his drink in spectacular fashion; fortunately Veren was not in the line of fire. "Wha?!" he cried, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Where'd ye hear a thing like that?!"

"I have heard that and numerous other phrases of a similar vein from the adjacent table." Scotty followed his gaze; there sat the Doctor, Kirk, Sulu, Chekov and Pike. Judging by their ruddy faces they were a little more into their cups than he was and they were all talking over each other—though what they were saying he couldn't tell.

"Ye can hear all that from way over here?" Scotty asked incredulously.

Veren turned his gaze on him and replied matter-of-factly, "Of course. Vulcan's possess increased aural sensitivity in comparison to humans."

_ Right_, he thought, giving a quick look at their tapered ears. "What else are they sayin'?"

"Should the need arise, Captain Sulu and Commander Chekov are debating how best to attack me, while the Doctor has decided that he would utilize his medical expertise to inject me with a debilitating neurotoxin of his own creation." At that the lad winced.

If they were talkin' about anybody but Veren and if the poor lad didn't look so serious…no, no, it still wouldn't be funny. "And Cap'n…I'm sorry, _Admiral_ Kirk? What do he and Pike have to say about all this?"

"Admiral Pike has not made any remarks upon the matter though his facial expression suggests he finds much mirth in their statements. Meanwhile, Admiral Kirk has declared that there would be no need for the others' assistance as he would 'take care of me personally' before they were aware of any problem." He swallowed hard. "He also said that my remains would never be recovered."

Veren blinked rapidly. "Mister Scott, as highly trained as these individual officers are, they should know that I am capable of defending myself should the need arise. With my superior strength I estimate a 96.43% chance that they would fail in their attempts to cause me any serious bodily harm." Scotty coughed as he choked back a sharp laugh. The poor, poor lad. "Furthermore," he added, "I do not understand what I have done to engender such hostility in a group of men I have only met 2.12 hours before."

_Ah, there's the crux of the problem_. Scotty instantly sobered up. "Laddie, what d'ye know about T'Alora and the _Enterprise_?"

Saying her name certainly captured his attention. "T'Alora was born aboard the _U.S.S. Enterprise _on 2261.294 while the ship was in orbit around the Federation planet Kerrali. She is the first child of S'chn T'gai Spokh and Nyota Uhura and was delivered by Doctor Geoffrey M'Benga after…"

"Alright, I see ye know the particulars," he said by way of stopping him. "But what do ye _know_ about that time?"

Veren cocked his head to the stand. "I do not understand your query."

"No, I can see that ye don't." Scotty slowly took a sip from his glass and gestured toward the other table. "They're not talkin' about you exactly. Matter of fact they'd be carryin' on like this no matter who was marryin' T'Alora or any of the other kids for that matter." He gestured toward the table where the children sat oblivious to their talk having a great time amongst themselves. Veren's confusion was now more evident and Monty wondered how to make him understand. "The thing is, laddie, T'Alora was the first bairn born on the _Enterprise_ and these men—myself included—all feel like her fathers in a way. We all helped raise her 'n are all very protective of her."

One eyebrow slowly rose. "They believe that I intend to hurt T'Alora?"

"Intend? No. It's jus' talk. What ye've got to know is that we all watched her grow up n' so want nothin' but the best for her. They cannae see that yer a good man yet but give 'em time; they'll come around 'soon enough."

He glanced back at the other table in consideration. "I believe I understand."

_Well that's surprising_. "Ye do?"

Veren nodded once. "Yes. Respect is earned, not given. I have earned your respect already, Mister Scott; now I must earn theirs."

"Aye!" He slapped the table triumphantly. "That's it right there. I knew ye were a smart lad."

There was that eyebrow again. "Indeed." Veren quickly finished his juice and excused himself leaving Scotty alone at the table. He watched the Vulcan make a beeline straight for T'Alora. Monty couldn't hear what the young people were saying but he could see they were getting along very well; his friends must've seen it too because he caught Kirk eyeing them and the whole table seemed to settle down. He took one last sip of his drink then got up and headed over to the other table; he and the laddies needed to have a good long talk about what the groom overheard before tomorrow's festivities.

* * *

><p>* Telan t'Kanlar = Vulcan ritual meaning "Bonding of the Children", refers to the light bond partners enter into at age 7<p> 


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N:** Greetings all! This chapter, Chapter 34 of "Being Se'tak" and Chapter 24 of "Rising Son" all take place on/around the same day; for that reason I'd highly recommend reading them all at the same time. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span><strong>The Bonding Ceremony<strong>

_**S'chn T'gai Clan House, New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan, **_**2288.300, 0758 hours.** Golden light streamed in through the long thin window, slowly making it's way up the navy comforter as the sun began it's ascent until it reached T'Alora's face, causing her to stir and blink into wakefulness. No sooner had she sat up and realized that today was her bonding day when a knock was heard at the door.

"T'Alora?" Before she could reply Mama burst in with Casey and Bibi talking animatedly out in the hall. "Good, you're awake." She swept around the bed and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "The girls and I wanted to get our dresses and air them out before starting on breakfast. Ladies!"

She resisted the urge to crinkle her brow. "Air them out?" Mama was already charging toward the oak armoire in the opposite corner. T'Melia, Casey, Poleia and Bibi filed in while her mother distributed the garment bags. "Sweetheart, do you want to shower before or after we eat?"

T'Alora, her head still fuzzy with sleep, watched her friends and family flit about the room. "I believe I will bathe prior to the morning meal."

"Ok," Mama said with a nod, "Food'll be on in about 30 minutes then. Fall out everybody!" Bibi whispered something over her shoulder that sent Casey tittering and put a look of confusion on T'Melia's face while Mama led the charge out the door. The entire encounter took no more than 47.8 seconds and yet T'Alora still felt as if she had just been ejected from a whirlwind.

* * *

><p><strong>1144 hours.<strong> Nyota stood in the hall just beyond the living room still clad in her old gray sweatpants and white button down shirt. As part of their beauty regimen for the day Casey insisted they do their own mud mask facials and paint their nails. She'd just had the toes done on her left foot when she got the call from Spock.

"What do you mean there's a problem?" she quietly hissed into the comm. It wouldn't do for Vulcan ears to pick up on this conversation and relay the worrisome news back to T'Alora.

"I stopped to consult with the caterers as per your request and they informed me that the crop of raspberries they received for the salad and dessert was unfit for consumption."

Her posture and tone immediately relaxed. "Well that's not a problem. That's fine, actually. I'd rather they serve the food without it then…"

"They have substituted strawberries for the ruined crop of imported raspberries."

_Crap_! "Stop them! You know practically everyone in my family's allergic!"

Before she could continue Spock cut her off. "I have already done so and have spoken at length with Executive Chef Eflan about how best to rectify the situation. The salads have been untouched and therefore are not an issue; however, he is uncertain whether they will be able to prepare enough vanilla mousse in time for the reception."

Nyota sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn't want anything to mar T'Alora's day, least of all a little detail like this. "We have to have some sort of dessert, Spock; our guests expect it! We've paid a lot for this dinner so you get back in there and tell Eflan to do whatever he has to do to get the job done—and _without_ any strawberries."

"I will say so; I only wished to consult with you in case an alternative arrangement had been made."

At that she had to roll her eyes. Granted, she'd planned practically everything about this affair down to the last detail but she had no Plan B for the off chance that the dessert fell through. Instead of getting her hackles up about it she changed the subject and asked after Veren whom the boys had taken out to the new cultural center in the city for a little diversion.

"He does not speak of it but I suspect that he is in a high state of anticipation for the evening to commence. How does T'Alora fare?"

Down the hall she heard T'Melia teasingly scold T'Alora for being unable to hold still. "She's excited too. Are you sure you all have your outfits so you can change at the Hall?"

"Yes."

"Shoes too? And the bells and lirpas? Because you can't come back here to get them, it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride."

Nyota could practically see Spock's sly grin through the comm. "Yes, k'diwa, we have all that is required of us so do not trouble yourself any further. We will see you at 1540 hours at the venue."

"Alright, see you then. And Spock?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"And I you, Nyota."

* * *

><p><em><strong>New Shi'Khar Cultural Museum, New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan, <strong>_**2288.300, 1207 hours.** Although as a rule they did not stare, the Vulcans in attendance at the cultural center on this day could not help but notice the large and unusual group leisurely strolling through the halls. Vulcan, Betazoid, Human, Andorian—there was even the odd Tellarite and Ruratarian scattered amongst the party. It was quite obvious to all witnesses that these men were visiting the center together and all appeared focused on one individual in particular; a tall young Vulcan situated roughly in the center of their cluster.

* * *

><p>They entered another cavernous room and Pavel immediately peeled away from the group to study the array of star charts. He soon gestured for Selek to join him and the elder Vulcan obliged, the 2 quickly falling into an animated repartee over the display. Jim couldn't help but grin and think how the more things changed the more they stayed the same. Although his former navigator was now 47 with a husband and son of his own to Jim he'd always be the perpetual teenager buzzing about the Bridge; and not only had Pavel gotten older but now little T was all grown up and getting married too.<p>

Where exactly had the time gone?

Looking back over his shoulder he saw Veren leaning over and speaking with Alhamisi. The pair of them seemed to get along really well especially considering that Spock told him they'd only known each other for 5 days. Maybe he should cut the guy a little more slack; after all he was marrying T'Alora and he had Scotty vouching for him too. They couldn't both be wrong about Veren.

The group paused, interrupting his thoughts, and a nearby display of engraved stones quickly caught his attention. His spoken Vulkhansu had improved greatly over the years thanks to Spock and Uhura's tutelage but his understanding of the written word left a lot to be desired and Jim puzzled to make out the significance of the stones from the nearby plaque.

"The runes were saved from the P'Jem Monastery before the collapse of Vulcan-That-Was," Veren explained, suddenly appearing at his side. "Although they have the appearance of being ancient relics they are in reality only 138.54 years old. The calligraphic symbols are chants that Vulcans recite when undertaking kohlinahr. They would clasp the runes in their hands and meditate with them as they began their journey to purge all emotion." He stopped and cocked his head to the side—much like Spock, Jim noticed—to study the rocks more closely. "It is most impressive that they survived the Destruction. It states here that the priest that carried these stones to New Vulcan was the only one of his Order to survive."

"Wow," Jim replied with a renewed appreciation for the display and the strength of the Vulcan people.

"Indeed."

Veren turned to trail after the group as they moved along and Jim kept up beside him. He wanted to apologize for his behavior the other night but had no idea how to begin. "Listen, Veren, about what you might've overheard yesterday…"

The tall young Vulcan stopped abruptly. "Admiral, there is no offense where none is taken. You and your colleagues were demonstrating your abiding affection for T'Alora via creative verbal displays denoting how you would abuse my person should I ever cause her harm or displeasure."

"Erm, well, yes, but…"

"I do not anticipate that such a time will ever come to pass that such violent actions will be made necessary. I do, however, hope to earn your trust and respect as I have earned T'Alora's and that of her immediate clan."

Jim spluttered, uncharacteristically struck dumb. "Well," he finally managed to reply, "Alright then." They walked along and entered another large room filled with pottery. "And Veren?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Call me Jim."

* * *

><p><em><strong>S'chn T'gai Clan House, New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan<strong>_**, 2288.300, 1720 hours.** Nyota signed the credit chit and handed it back over to the hairdresser and her assistants standing by the front door. As they showed themselves out she brought a hand up to the side of her head, lightly touching the formal up-do that was all but glued into place. How the stylists managed to pile her short hair up so high she'll never know; in fact she was still impressed at how they were able to beat Casey's unruly mane into submission.

Steps were heard on the stairs just then and she looked up in time to see her mother looking over the landing. "Nyota, she's almost ready."

_Already?_ The entire day had been a blur of activity but she didn't think it was as late as all that. A quick glance at her chronometer reminded her that the ceremony was only 40 minutes away and they needed at least 20 minutes to get there on-time.

She flashed a tight smile back up at her mother. "I'll be right up."

There was still so much to do! She needed to touch up her make-up and make sure her mother had taken her pills, not to mention they had to get T'Alora's honeymoon bags down to the front door and ready to load into the car. She needed to talk to T'Alora too—they hadn't had more than 2 minutes alone together the whole day and there were things she wanted to say…

And just where in the world had her handbag got to?

* * *

><p><strong>1725 hours.<strong> She closed her eyes and slowly exhaled as Poleia fixed the final button on her gown. Turning around slowly T'Alora faced the long mirror leaning against the opposite wall and froze in her tracks. She was completely transformed.

"T," Casey uttered breathlessly, "You're glowing."

Truer words were never spoken and yet T'Alora could not form a proper reply to her friend's compliment; she was too taken aback by her own image to speak. The royal gold fabric shone against her skin and the long flare of her sleeves and skirt rippled at the slightest movement. The make-up Mama had applied earlier was subtle yet flawless, further accentuating her high cheekbones and long eyelashes. Completing the look was her hair; her long dark locks had been styled high atop her head and secured with a fashionable and simple gold, double tiara band.

She looked as if she had been touched by Earth's mythical figure King Midas himself.

Smoothing down the front of her gown she felt her stomach flip in excitement and allowed herself a small smile. At that moment Mama slipped into the room and they caught each other's eye in the mirror. A happy smile was plastered to her mother's face and her eyes pooled with moisture. She appeared to be on the verge of speaking when the photographer interrupted them and began snapping away. The young man flitted about the room capturing shot after shot, arranging and re-arranging the women as he saw fit. "You look beautiful," Mama finally declared as they were poised to have their image captured.

There was clearly more she wanted to say yet T'Alora only had time to thank her for the compliment before they were asked to move into a different position for the next shot. Before they knew it it was time for them to depart for the ceremony.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yarsei Function Center, New Shi'Khar, New Vulcan, <strong>_**2288.300,****1758 hours.**He stood alone at the altar before the assembled guests, eyes closed as he tried to rise above the low din of conversation going on in 19 different languages. Veren knew there would be a large assemblage present—310 guests at last count—what he had not anticipated was his own heightened emotional state in anticipation of his bonding to T'Alora. The adrenaline coursing through him caused him to re-double his grip on the mallet and he hoped no one saw how he trembled in anticipation. His eagerness for T'Alora's arrival made him feel as if he were experiencing the early stages of Pon Farr again and now that they were nearing the appointed hour Veren was uncertain he would be able to contain himself throughout the whole of the reception.

He willed the last 78.52 seconds to progress faster.

* * *

><p><strong>1800 hours<strong>. Nyota felt a frisson of excitement run up her spine as the gong rang out. She followed Veren's gaze down the aisle to the double doors at the back of the room as they were pulled open by two young men. Lady T'Eiria, dressed in head-to-toe black and wearing an elaborate black headpiece, stood framed in the doorway looking out over the crowd with a dark, penetrating gaze. A friend of the late-T'Pau's, she had been one of the most vocal opponents of Sarek's bonding with Amanda, and he was more surprised than anyone when she offered to officiate at his granddaughter's bonding as a means of atonement while honoring her late-friend. Seeing that the offer was made in earnest they were happy to accept her services.

Lady T'Eiria swept up the aisle with her head held high, foregoing the traditional sedan-chair and instead favoring an ornate staff bearing her family crest. She strode past them all and up the altar to the seat of honor without a single sideways glance. Veren took a knee beside her to pay homage and allow her to conduct a light meld before the ceremony began; as she withdrew she nodded favorably then maintained an almost disinterested air.

The girls entered next, tiny Casey leading the way while T'Melia and Poleia towered over her from behind. Nyota couldn't help but grin as she watched them go past. Casey struggled to keep her expression neutral but she beamed with joy throughout the entire walk and waved at Stalvek as she passed his seat.

Se'tak and Selas entered shortly after the trio passed, looking almost like twins in their matching taupe outfits. The sight of her boys filled her with pride and Nyota's eyes misted over with happy tears. They took their jobs very seriously and paused just inside the doorway with lirpas crossed and somber expressions on their faces. She expected Se'tak to at least crack a smile as he walked by her but he remained sober throughout his trip up the aisle, not wanting to ruin T'Alora's big day.

When everyone was ready T'Alora stepped forward. The room let out a collective gasp at her appearance and even Nyota couldn't contain her delight. There was no other word for it—her daughter looked like royalty. Hands folded inside her sleeves she made her way toward the altar at a leisurely pace amidst admiring glances and murmurs of praise from her guests; like Lady T'Eiria before her T'Alora kept her gaze locked on Veren and blocked all else out. Soon they stood side-by-side and their officiant rose to her feet to address the crowd.

"What thou art about to witness comes down from the time of the beginning. This is the Vulcan heart; this is the Vulcan soul. This is our way. Kah-if-farr*."

* * *

><p>As Lady T'Eiria re-took her seat Veren stepped forward to ring the gong so that they may begin. His step faltered, however, when he heard T'Alora's voice in the back of his mind. "<em>Should I name my challenger now?<em>"

His eyebrow shot up and he paused with the mallet in mid-air. Turning back around he saw that his Ha'ge's expression never wavered. "_You jest?_"

Her grin was slight. "_Of course._"

_Of course._ He rang the gong three times in rapid succession realizing he was in for a lifetime of such teasing and more. As he restored the mallet to it's hook he also realized that he could not wait for that life to begin.

* * *

><p>"Kneel." As she did as she was bid T'Alora felt her whole body tremble in anticipation. The tel she and Veren had forged 2.05 years earlier was about to be strengthened ten-fold, binding them together for the rest of their days. She could not wait. "Do you give yourself freely to this man?" Lady T'Eiria asked.<p>

"I do."

"And do you give yourself freely to this woman?"

Veren nodded. "I do."

"Then we will begin." Lady T'Eiria's fingertips connected with the psi points on the side of her face and initiated the three-way meld.

"_Veren, repeat after me. 'T'Alora, parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched, I join my life with yours.'_"

"_T'Alora, parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched, I join my life with yours._" The white light of the bond flared visibly between them as his presence took greater hold in her mind. Lady T'Eiria continued.

"_T'Alora, repeat after me. 'Veren, parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched, I join my life with yours.'_"

"_Veren._" The mere utterance of his name sent her heart fluttering. "_Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched, I join my life with yours._"

The bond flared again and, her part now concluded, Lady T'Eiria retreated from their consciousness. Eyes still closed T'Alora leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Their delight at being bonded looped back and forth between them, increasing to dizzying proportions and bringing her a happiness heretofore unknown.

"_I love you,_ _Ha'ge,_" he declared.

"_I love you too, Veren._"

"Rise." Her eyes flew open at the command and T'Alora rose to her feet with assistance from her new adun. "Thou art now K'net I'nari—two minds with one katra. Go forth in peace and greet thy new life."

The far corner of Veren's mouth ticked up and he extended 2 fingers toward her which she took in her own with pleasure. As they touched and turned to face the rest of the room their guests broke out in raucous cheers and applause.

* * *

><p><strong>1934 hours.<strong>The formal holo pictures had been taken and the meal—6 courses each chosen from a different part of the galaxy—had been eagerly consumed by the entire party. The live band that had been playing quietly throughout the meal began to transition from easy listening to dance music as T'Alora and Veren went from table-to-table greeting and thanking their guests.

"You're a beautiful couple, absolutely beautiful!" raved Ambassador Shras.

T'Alora blushed, unused to the abundance of compliments she was receiving this evening.

The Ambassador grinned to his companions and waggled his brow suggestively. "I bet we'll be expecting babies very soon now, eh?"

The question flustered her more than it should. They wanted children yet they had only been bonded for 1.52 hours… "I…"

"My wife, attend."

Her eyebrows flew up at the command and the table fell silent around them. T'Alora turned to see her adun gazing at her most intently with one hand extended and rather than disobey she allowed herself to be led away toward the center of the dance floor. "_There will be plenty of time for children,_" he reminded her, "_Later. Now is for us._" A trill of electricity swept through her as Veren placed one hand on her hip.

"_I thought we had agreed to forego the traditional Terran first dance as you did not know how to dance._"

"_That is what we agreed,_" he nonchalantly replied. Meanwhile the band struck up a waltz and Veren guided her about the floor with a sure step. "_However, I altered my opinion on the matter and Sa-mekh Spokh, Se'tak and Selas were most helpful in rectifying my deficiencies._"

T'Alora smiled as she matched him step-for-step. He knew of the deep satisfaction she drew from dancing. "_You learned how to dance for me?_"

He made no reply as he twirled her expertly about the floor but his pride was evident. The mastery of a few steps was a simple task in and of itself but it was the gesture that made T'Alora happiest. "_You learned how to dance for me._" She pressed herself against him and leaned her head against his shoulder in true contentment.

* * *

><p><strong>2002 hours.<strong> Everyone was out on the floor kicking up their heels but one couple was noticeably absent. Se'tak was standing near the bar chatting with Ambassador Argotts's pretty daughter, Derrida, when his mother came up. "Sweetheart, have you seen T anywhere? I can't seem to find her and the Levinsons want to say good-bye before they go. "

He shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. I haven't seen her."

"Oh. Well if you spot her tell her to come find me, ok?"

"Sure thing." He went back to flirting with Derrida when 10 minutes later out of the corner of his eye he saw his sister slip back into the room through a side entrance. Her hair and gown were a little mussed but she quickly straightened them out and went right back to the party without skipping a beat. He didn't think anything of it until Veren slipped in through the same door less than a minute later, his cheeks flushed hunter green.

Se'tak quickly guessed what was what and he struggled to keep his food down.

* * *

><p><strong>2125 hours.<strong> The children of the _Enterprise_ sat clustered together at a table just off the dance floor, taking a breather as an older tune was struck up and the adults swooped in for their share of the fun. "So Selas, have you ever used one before today?" his cousin, Max Chekov-Daly, asked excitedly.

"Used what?"

"A lirka."

"I think you mean a lirpa," Rebecca corrected him.

"That too."

Selas took a sip of tea and replaced the cup in it's saucer. "I have been trained in the use of a lirpa, yes…"

"COOL!" his 10.9 year old cousin exclaimed.

"But I have never used one in combat. Also, the lirpas you witnessed me and Se'tak carrying earlier were ceremonial and not intended to inflict maximum damage."

"Oh." Poor Max, he sounded so broken hearted. His little cousin had an intellect (and a curiosity) that knew no bounds and—given his current surroundings—was currently fascinated with all things Vulcan.

"Perhaps before you and your fathers leave I may demonstrate a few moves for you if you are so inclined."

"Really? That'd be awesome! Thanks!" Max bounded up from his seat and gave him a quick hug before bounding off in search of his parents to share the good news. Selas arched an eyebrow in mild surprise at such an enthusiastic response while Kyson and Samuel threw their heads back and laughed. "Well you sure made his night!"

"Indeed."

"What's wrong?" Lillian innocently asked.

"Should I be concerned by Max's deep interest in the use of such weaponry?"

"Are you serious?" Seeing that he was Kyson started to roar and was unable to form any coherent response.

Gently, Rebecca tapped him on the shoulder. "He's fine, Selas. Really. Don't you remember what Se'tak used to be like?"

He considered that a moment and recalled his sa-kai's preoccupation with firearms—phasers, laser guns, foam blasters—which he eventually outgrew. "You are correct, Rebecca."

"I know."

Meanwhile Kyson gulped down his soda having somewhat recovered. "Oh man," he said, "I forgot how funny you are."

* * *

><p><strong>2341 hours.<strong> Nyota relaxed in her seat, bare feet up on the opposite chair and a glass of champagne in hand, watching the newlywed couple go about the room. Except for the earlier dessert crisis everything had gone off without a hitch and if the thinning crowd was any indication then the night that was 10 months in the making was almost over.

"Everything was beautiful, Ny." She looked over to see Chris sitting next to Leonard, their glasses raised to her. "Absolutely beautiful. You outdid yourself."

Len took a sip before they even clinked glassed. "Yep, it was perfect. The ceremony was short, sweet and to the point. Exactly my kind of wedding." The girls shared a giggle as they rolled their eyes.

Spock scooped up her wayward heels as he approached. "Nyota, the children are prepared to depart."

"Oh!" She shoved her glass aside and grabbed her shoes from him, struggling to get them on her feet as she watched the remaining guests move to the exit to give the newlyweds a cheery send-off. Nyota moved as fast as she could in the long skirt she was wearing but it wasn't fast enough. A bottleneck quickly formed as all the people spilled out into the lobby and onto the sidewalk. Peering over everyone's heads as she tried to push through the throng Nyota saw that the hovercar had been fixed with streamers and balloons—Se'tak's doing, no doubt.

The crowd parted for T'Alora and Veren and she was pushed back nearer the wall.

"Good bye!"

"Have fun!"

"Don't have _too_ much fun," Se'tak muttered.

"Enjoy your trip!"

"Bye!"

"Give us a call when you get back!"

"Congratulations!"

"Good bye!"

Before she knew it the driver ushered the newlyweds into the vehicle, closed the door and drove off. The wedding was over.

She choked down a sob.

"K'diwa?" Spock asked, taking hold of her elbow and spinning her around. "What is the matter?"

How could she explain? "I didn't get to say good bye."

"The children will only be off planet for 9.18 days. We will simply extend our stay on New Vulcan and you may see them upon their return."

She brushed away a tear. "No, it's not that. I'm sorry, I'm fine, it's just been a long day." She pulled him close and Spock held her tight. "They're happy right, Ashayam? The kids, I mean."

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "I believe that they are truly and deeply content."

"Then that's all that matters."

She would've liked to linger there with him a little longer but his comm went off. "Excuse me." He stepped a little ways away and Nyota felt bereft but he soon returned and took her by the hand. Back into the empty reception room they went then through a side door and into the kitchen.

"Spock, where are we going?"

"All will be revealed in good time."

He continued to lead her through another door to a back alley where a hovercar was waiting; not just any hovercar, but the one containing T'Alora and Veren. No sooner did she realize this then her daughter stepped out of the vehicle followed by her new adun.

"T!" She raced up and threw her arms around her. "I thought we'd missed you!"

T'Alora was equally relieved as she returned the embrace. "I attempted to reach you before our departure, however, our guests were too numerous and I could not pass. I informed Veren that we could not continue on our journey until I had spoken with you."

"Oh Sweetie..."

"We also wanted to thank you, Mama, for all that you have done to make this ceremony possible for us."

Two happy tears streamed down her face. "You're welcome, both of you." She reached out and pulled her new son into the hug. "Now go and have a wonderful time on your cruise and call us when you get back to New Shannai'Khar, ok?"

"Ha Ko-mekh, we will," Veren answered.

Nyota gave them each a hearty kiss before letting them go. "I love you both."

T'Alora kissed her then embraced her sa-mekh before returning to the vehicle. As they watched the car drive out of sight Nyota leaned into Spock contentedly and let out a happy sigh. She'd seen how happy her daughter was with her own two eyes—there wasn't anything more she could ask for then that.

* * *

><p>* "Kah-if-farr" = Vulkhansu, "It is time." This speech and subsequent lines from the ceremony have been modified from the TOS episode 'Amok Time'.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And they're bonded! I hope you like my take on a Vulcan wedding—I tried to make it unique. Just wanted to let everyone know that I'll be updating Selas' story, "Rising Son", for the next several weeks instead of updating "Forging". Don't worry though, we'll return to the happy couple at some point in the future, I promise!


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